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POTTER 


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I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 


SECOND1  EDITION 


BY  DAVID  POTTER 


One  of  the  prettiest  gift-books  of  the  season 

An  Accidental  Honeymoon 

A  sparkling  and  breezy  gift  romance  of  modern 
times,  the  scenes  laid  in  Maryland.  The  plot  is  re- 
freshingly novel  and  delightfully  handled.  The  hero- 
ine is  one  of  the  "  fetchingest"  little  persons  in  the 
realms  of  fiction.  The  dialogue  of  the  story  is  re- 
markably good,  and  through  it  all  runs  a  vein  of 
delightful  humor — though  the  author  can  be  serious 
enough  when  he  tries. 

Eight  Illustrations  in  Color  by  George  W.  G&ge.  Border 
Decorations  on  each  page  by  Edw.  Stratton  Holloway. 
Large  12mo.  Beautifully  designed  cloth,  $1.35  net. 

The  Lady  of  the  Spur 

"  Ferriss  Dayton  is  a  delightful  novelty,  belonging 
on  one  side  to  the  odorous  freedom  of  the  pine  woods 
and  on  the  other  to  the  haughty  Morvans.  The  tale 
has  a  masterly  swing  and  moves  with  briskness  and 
ease."  — Philadtlfhia  Prtit. 

Third  Edition.    Colored  Frontispiece  by  C.  F.  Underwood. 
12mo.    Cloth,  $1.50. 


IT  WAS   MORE  NEARLY   A   HANDCUFF  THAN  A  BRACELET. 
IT  AND   DROPPED   THE  KEY   INTO   MY  POCKET. 


I  LOCKED 
fage  4& 


I  FASTEN 
A  BRACELET 


BV 


DAVID  POTTER 

AUTHOR  OF  "THE  LADY  OF  THE  SPUR," 
"AN  ACCIDENTAL  HONEYMOON,"  ETC. 


WITH  A  FRONTISPIECE  BY 
MARTIN    JUSTICE 


PHILADELPHIA     &     LONDON 

J.   B.   LIPPINCOTT    COMPANY 

1911 


COPYRIGHT,  1911,  BT  J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY 


PUBLISHED   SEFTEMBEB,   1911 


PRINTED  BT  J.  B.  MPPINCOTT  COMPANT 

AT  THE  WASHINGTON  SQUARE  PRESS 

PHILADELPHIA   U.S.A. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.     NELL  POURS  COFFEE 7 

II.     INVITATIONS  ARE  DECIDED  UPON 16 

III.  A  GIRL  DISOBEYS  ORDERS 24 

IV.  APPLE-PIE  WITH  CREAM 32 

V.     I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 41 

VI.     THROUGH  THE  DARKNESS 51 

VII.     A  DOMESTIC  DISCUSSION 57 

VIII.     A  DINNER  ENFORCED 68 

IX.     A  SHARPENED  SPOON 84 

X.     A  POINT  OF  HONOUR 95 

XI.    I  SURPRISE  A  PURITAN 106 

XII.     A  PROPOSAL  is  MENTIONED 115 

XIII.  THE  BLOODHOUND 130 

XIV.  THE  PRINCESS  LETS  DOWN  HER  HAIR 144 

XV.     WE  TALK  OF  SUMATRA 154 

XVI.    ALECK  EXPLAINS 162 

XVII.     OVER  A  GRAVE 179 

XVIII.     NORAH  is  PUZZLED 190 

XIX.     LETTERS  FROM  REX 197 

XX.     ASHES  OF  THE  STARS 207 

XXI.     A  COLD  BATH 219 

XXII.     EAVESDROPPING 231 

XXIII.  I  DEMAND  PAYMENT 245 

XXIV.  THE  CHURCH  AT  TARNSDALE 262 


I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 


NELL  POURS  COFFEE 

"  Miss  ELLEN  won't  be  down  to  breakfast,  sir," 
said  Theresa,  humbly  enough. 

I  stared  at  her.     "Won't  be  down?" 

"  No,  sir.  She  says  for  you  not  to  wait  break- 
fast for  her,  if  you  please." 

"  Tell  her  I  am  waiting,"  I  rejoined.  "  And 
ask  her  to  come  at  once." 

"  But,  sir " 

"  Ask  her  to  come  at  once,"  I  repeated. 

The  maid  hurriedly  withdrew.  I  turned  to  the 
window  and  gazed  out  across  the  valley  to  the  roll- 
ing Berkshires.  The  mist  of  the  autumn  morning 
still  hid  the  Westbrook  place  on  the  opposite  slope, 
and  the  gravelled  walks  in  front  of  "  Red  Cedars  " 
were  a  little  cracked  by  the  frost.  The  day  prom- 
ised to  be  clear.  The  early  crimson  of  the  trees 
along  the  walks  accorded  with  the  violent  color 
of  my  thoughts — thoughts  as  conflicting  as  they 
were  violent. 

"  If  you  please,  sir,"  said  the  maid  behind  me, 
"  Miss  Ellen  begs  you  to  excuse  her.  Mrs.  Sut- 
phen  will  be  down  at  once  to  pour  coffee,  sir." 

7 


8  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

I  faced  her  abruptly.  "  Tell  Mrs.  Sutphen,  Miss 
Ellen  and  I  will  breakfast  without  her,"  I  said  with 
emphasis.  "  Say  to  Miss  Sutphen  I  wish  her  to 
come  immediately.  Say  I  order  her  to  come — order 
her,  do  you  understand?  And  you  needn't  come 
back — we'll  wait  on  ourselves." 

For  a  moment  Theresa's  eyes  met  mine  defiantly. 
"  Miss  Ellen  says  she " 

"  That  will  do,"  I  interrupted.  "  Carry  my 
orders  at  once.  And  look  here,  Theresa!  Don't 
think  I  don't  see  through  you.  You'd  better  not 
get  in  my  way  about  here.  I  know  very  well  you're 
as  deep  in  this  game  as  any  one." 

At  my  chance  shot  the  girl's  stubbornness  van- 
ished. Her  eyes  brimmed  with  tears  and  her  chin 
trembled.  She  fumbled  in  her  apron  pocket  for 
the  handkerchief  she  could  not  find.  A  half  sob 
escaped  her. 

"  Oh,  sir,  if  you  please "  She  fled  from  the 

room. 

Again  I  strolled  to  the  window  and  gazed  across 
the  valley,  yet  I  had  to  pinch  myself  to  realize  that 
I  was  not  dreaming. 

This  was  Bannocks,  there  swelled  the  yellowing 
Berkshires,  and  it  was  the  Year  of  Grace  nineteen 
hundred  and  ten.  These  things  were  real.  It  was 
equally  certain  that  I  stood  in  the  breakfast-room 
of  "  Red  Cedars,"  master  not  only  of  the  house, 
but  also  of  Mrs.  Constance  Sutphen  and,  above  all, 
of  the  much-admired  Ellen  Sutphen.  I  was  master 


NELL  POURS  COFFEE  9 

and  determined  to  take  advantage  of  my  mastery — 
no  matter  how  ungenerously. 

The  whole  situation  gratified  the  underlying  in- 
stinct of  the  savage  inherent  in  every  man. 

I  felt  a  sense  of  proprietorship  as  I  glanced 
about.  The  room  was  one  of  the  pleasantest  in 
Bannocks.  It  jutted  from  a  wing  of  the  house  in 
such  fashion  as  to  admit  light  and  air  on  three 
sides  of  it.  Windows,  broad  and  low,  ran  about  it, 
and  through  them  the  sight  of  the  valley  below  and 
the  slopes  above  gave  one  a  mild  feeling  of  floating 
in  space,  as  in  a  balloon. 

The  breakfast  table,  its  snowy  doilies  and  spark- 
ling silver  most  alluring  to  a  healthy  man,  had 
been  drawn  cosily  near  a  window.  The  New  York 
Herald,  duly  unfolded  and  warmed,  was  spread 
at  my  place. 

There  was  a  light  step  in  the  hallway.  I  faced 
about  as  Ellen  Sutphen  entered.  Without  lifting 
her  eyes  to  meet  my  glance,  she  crossed  the  room 
and  sank  into  her  seat  behind  the  coffee-urn. 

"  Good-morning,"  I  said. 

She  made  no  answer.  Her  hands,  busied  with  the 
breakfast  things,  shook  as  they  moved.  The  lids 
of  the  eyes  she  held  resolutely  on  the  cups  and 
saucers  were  rimmed  with  red. 

"  Good-morning,"  I  repeated. 

Still  she  did  not  reply — a  cup  rattled  against 
a  saucer.  I  looked  from  cup  to  saucer  with  a 
surprised  air,  and  spoke  for  the  third  time. 


10  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

"  Perhaps  you  didn't  notice  that  I  bade  you 
good-morning,  mademoiselle." 

Her  long  lashes  were  lifted  at  last — scorn  and 
protest  showed  in  the  eyes  that  met  mine  an  instant. 

"  Good-morning,"  she  said  faintly.  Again  the 
lashes  swept  the  white  cheeks. 

"That's  right,"  I  said.  "Very  well  done,  in- 
deed. And  now  that  the  Sphinx  has  spoken,  I  want 
you  to  talk  naturally,  Nell.  No  sulking,  you  know. 
Play  the  game." 

"  It's  a  poor  game  for  us,  Mr.  Schuyler." 

"  Craig,"  I  corrected. 

She  was  silent.     I  leaned  a  little  forward. 

"  Craig,"  I  insisted. 

"  Craig."     Her  voice  was  hardly  audible. 

"  Good.  Don't  let's  forget  all  the  past.  Will 
you  pour  me  some  coffee?  Thank  you." 

I  watched  her  without  speaking  until  she  had 
handed  me  my  cup — her  eyes  did  not  meet  mine. 
I  stirred  my  coffee  with  an  unconcern  that  was  only 
apparent. 

"  Yes,"  I  went  on,  "  I  want  you  not  only  to  be 
natural,  but  I  want  you  to  be  good-humored." 

"  Good-humored?  "  she  protested. 

"  Certainly.  Merry,  debonair."  I  smiled  amia- 
bly. 

She  shivered — I  guessed  that  her  hands  were 
clasping  each  other  beneath  the  table. 

"  Debonair !  "  she  said  almost  in  a  whisper.  "  Oh, 
what  a  mockery!  Merry?  Debonair?  How  can 
I !  Be  a  little  reasonable,  Craig." 


NELL  POURS  COFFEE  11 

"  You  must  be  reasonable."  I  rested  an  elbow  on 
the  table,  and  assumed  a  manner  of  frank  argu- 
ment. "  When  one  owns  a  girl,  body  and  soul, 
he  has  a  right  to  expect  her  to  behave  decently, 
hasn't  he?  " 

She  raised  her  head  with  something  of  her  old 
hauteur — the  chin  a  little  forward,  the  hazel  eyes 
steady,  the  neck  drawn  proudly  back.  It  was  the 
famous  "  Sutphen  look." 

"  Own  me !  "  she  said.     "  No — never." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  I  returned.  "  I  didn't 
mean  that,  of  course — it  was  only  a  figure  of 
speech.  And  yet,  Nell,  I  do  own  you,  too,  in  a  way. 
Not  the  Greek  hetaera  way,  of  course — not  Eliza 
and  Simon  Legree  style — but  as  Aladdin  owned  the 
genii,  you  know.  You'll  do  as  I  say — you  under- 
stand me?  " 

"  Yes."     Her  eyes  fell. 

"  You'll  obey  me  as  long  as  I  like,  mind !  Laugh 
when  I  order  you  to,  and  cry,  if  I  prefer  it?  Will 
you  ?  " 

"  Yes — if  I  must."  Her  lips  barely  framed  the 
words. 

"  Oh,  you  must,"  I  said.  "  There  isn't  any 
way  out  of  it  for  you,  really.  I  don't  mind  saying 
I'm  enjoying  the  situation,  Nell.  I've  waited  a 
good  while  for  my  turn — I  dare  say  you  don't 
blame  me  for  making  good  use  of  it  now  that  it's 
come." 

"  I  don't  suppose  my  blame  matters  to  you — 
nor  my  approval." 


12  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

"  Since  you  suggest  it — perhaps  not." 

Beneath  the  girl's  white  linen  gown  I  could  see  her 
bosom  rise  tremulously.  Her  lips  parted.  The 
dainty  collar  about  her  throat  swelled  with  the 
pulse  that  beat  suffocatingly  there.  These  things 
I  saw  and  understood — shame  or  fear,  or  both, 
held  her  silent.  She  was  in  my  power,  and  helpless. 
I  eyed  her  critically. 

She  had  changed  much  during  the  four  years  I 
had  been  absent  from  the  country.  Her  figure 
was  not  quite  the  same  as  that  which  had  haunted 
my  dreams  by  a  hundred  campfires,  yet  it  was  fully 
as  beautiful — more  rounded,  if  not  so  willowy,  more 
graceful,  if  not  so  ethereal. 

Her  face  looked  older.  Not  that  a  single  line 
marred  the  texture  of  the  cheek  or  drew  the  corners 
of  the  rather  wide  mouth — not  that  the  dark-brown 
hair  had  lost  one  touch  of  its  sheen.  These  charms 
were  unaltered.  But  a  look  of  unutterable  care 
stamped  the  whole  face.  The  slumberous  glance 
of  the  eyes  was  gone,  and  in  its  place  was  an 
anxious  questioning. 

The  indifferent  smile  that  had  so  put  me  on  my 
mettle  in  days  gone  by — that  had  so  piqued  and 
spurred  me — had  changed  to  a  droop  of  the  mouth 
almost  pathetic  in  its  wistfulness.  The  girl's  spirit 
was  broken,  or  at  least  near  the  point  of  breaking. 

"  Why  so  silent  ?  "  I  said  aloud.  "  I'm  ready 
to  have  you  sparkle  a  little,  if  you  please." 

"  Only  a  Nero  could  fiddle  while  Rome  was  burn- 
ing," she  returned. 


NELL  POURS  COFFEE  IS 

"  Joan  of  Arc  laughed  when  they  set  fire  to  the 
fagots  that  burned  her." 

"  But  I'm  not  a  Joan  of  Arc — I  wish  I  were." 

"  You  mean  you'd  find  a  way  to  oust  the  enemy?" 

"  Yes."  Her  tense  attitude  relaxed  a  little. 
"May  I  ring  for  Theresa?  There's  probably  an 
egg  and  toast  for  you." 

"  Yes,  certainly,  ring.  Please  don't  think  I 
want  to  interfere  with  your  management  of  the 
household — at  any  rate,  under  ordinary  circum- 
stances. It's  your  goings-out  and  comings-in  I 
must  be  consulted  about.  It  will  be — ah — rather 
satisfying  to  refuse  you  permission  to  make  a  call, 
if  I  like." 

She  pressed  the  bell  without  replying.  Theresa 
responded  with  a  promptness  I  found  amusing.  As 
the  pretty  Swede  placed  the  toastrack  and  egg-dish 
on  the  table,  I  watched  her  covertly. 

She  moved  about  me  as  if  she  were  intruding  on 
a  tiger  or  treading  near  a  powder  magazine.  When 
her  eyes  met  mine,  they  were  full  of  a  sort  of  admir- 
ing submission.  I  knew  I  would  have  no  more 
trouble  with  Theresa — her  defiance  was  crumbled 
once  for  all. 

I  glanced  over  my  newspaper  until  the  maid  had 
served  us  and  departed — her  eyes  lingered  on  me 
as  the  door  swung  behind  her.  I  chipped  my  egg. 

"  Now  then,"  I  said  expectantly,  "  you  can  go 
on,  Nell." 

"Go  on?" 

"  Yes — you  can  sparkle." 


14  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

She  rested  her  chin  on  her  hands,  her  elbows  on 
the  table,  and  looked  at  me.  Her  eyes  were  start- 
lingly  large  in  contrast  with  the  dead-white  of  her 
cheeks. 

"  I'm  afraid  I  can't." 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  can,  really.  Tell  me  something 
about  yourself.  One  moment — you  aren't  eating 
anything." 

"Eat?"  she  said  with  loathing.  "No,  no- 
please  don't  make  me  do  that.  I  simply  can't  eat 
— please,  Craig." 

"  All  right — only  I  don't  want  you  to  be  ill." 

"  No  such  luck — for  me." 

"  Come,  don't  be  gloomy.  If  you  would  eat  a 
little  breakfast,  I'm  sure  it  would  help  the  blues 
materially.  Never  mind !  Tell  me  about  yourself." 

"  Myself? "  For  the  first  time  a  ghost  of  a 
smile  twitched  her  lips.  "  I'm  not  a  very  interest- 
ing subject  of  conversation." 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  are — to  me.  What  have  you  been 
doing  with  yourself  all  these  years?  " 

"  What  do  we  all  do  ?  "  she  answered.  "  A  little 
of  Paris — a  good  deal  of  New  York — more  of  New- 
port and — here.  The  same  old  round — teas,  and 
all  the  rest." 

"  Late  dinners,  and  morning  cocktails  ?  "  I  sug- 
gested. 

"  Late  dinners,  yes,  but  morning  cocktails,  no. 
I  despise  them." 

"  Good — so  do  I.  But  what  about  the  human 
side  of  the  same  old  round?  Personalities  are 


NELL  POURS  COFFEE  15 

what  count  in  this  sad  world.  Who  have  been  your 
friends  since  I  went  over  the  horizon?  " 

A  faint  color  crept  into  her  cheeks.  "  My 
friends?  I  fancy  the  list  would  bore  you." 

"  Your  men  friends  I  mean,  of  course." 

"  I  haven't  had  any — not  the  sort  you  mean. 
Tom  Bullitt  and  Harold  Winston  have  been  here 
occasionally  and — and " 

"And  who?" 

"And  Aleck  Westbrook."  She  smiled  faintly. 
"  He's  too  young  to  count,  though." 

"  A  nice  boy,"  I  commented.  "  At  any  rate,  he 
promised  to  be,  when  I  last  saw  him.  Is  that  all?  " 

"  Ye-es,  I  think  so." 

"  Not  quite,"  I  said.  "  I've  read  the  news- 
papers, if  I  have  been  in  Sumatra.  Haven't  you 
left  out  somebody,  Nell  ?  " 

This  time  the  color  in  her  cheeks  grew  to  a  real 
blush. 

"  Well,  Carlos  Beauchamp  was  over  last  year." 

"  Carlos  Beauchamp?  "  I  repeated.  It  was  only 
what  I  had  expected  to  hear,  yet  I  liked  it  none 
the  more  for  that.  I  eyed  her  with  an  insolence 
that  might  well  have  reminded  her  of  the  gentleman 
in  question. 

"  There's  an  acquaintance  you're  better  with- 
out," I  said. 

"  In  your  opinion." 

*'  Certainly — and  my  opinion  prevails  here. 
Please  understand  you're  through  with  him,"  I 
concluded  rather  savagely. 


n 

INVITATIONS  ARE  DECIDED  UPON 

A  LONG  silence  followed  my  announcement  anent 
Mr.  Carlos  Beauchamp — a  silence  doubtless  painful 
enough  to  one  of  us,  at  least.  Presently  she  made 
an  effort  to  seem  at  ease. 

"  What  about  yourself?  "  she  asked.  "  It's  fair 
you  should  confess  a  little,  isn't  it  ?  You  can  a  tale 
unfold?" 

"  I  don't  mind,"  I  said,  "  but  it's  too  long  to  tell. 
Six  months  on  the  Continent — three  in  Africa — 
two  years  or  so  in  the  far  East,  and  the  last  part 
of  the  time  back  on  the  boulevards  again." 

"  You  really  explored  things,  didn't  you  ?  " 

"  A  little.  Here ! — The  eagle-eyed  and  always- 
truthful  Associated  Press  has  had  its  eye  on  me 
apparently.  See  it  for  yourself." 

I  handed  her  the  Herald,  my  finger  on  the  pas- 
sage that  had  attracted  my  attention.  She  read  it 
aloud — her  voice  was  always  soft  and  low — an  Eng- 
lish voice: 

"  Among  the  notable  arrivals  on  the  Lusitania  yesterday 
morning  were  Count  Nakimura,  the  Japanese  general,  Mr. 
Carlos  Beau — "  her  voice  faltered  an  instant — "  Beauchamp 
of  London  and  Havana,  and  Mr.  Craig  Schuyler  of  New 
York.  Mr.  Schuyler's  presence  will  be  particularly  welcomed 
by  his  friends  in  this  city,  his  long  absence  abroad  having 
given  rise  to  the  rumor  that  he  had  intended  to  become 

16 


INVITATIONS  DECIDED  UPON         17 

a  regular  expatriate.  As  has  been  several  times  stated  in 
these  columns,  Mr.  Schuyler  has  been  engaged  in  extensive 
travel  and  exploration  in  the  Far  East.  It  is  said  he  has 
penetrated  parts  of  Sumatra  never  before  reached  by  a  white 
man,  and  that  he  has  participated  in  some  of  the  battles 
between  the  Achinese  and  the  Dutch." 

Ellen  looked  up  from  her  reading.  "  Did  you?  " 
she  asked.  "  Were  you  really  in  the  fighting  ?  I 
hadn't  heard  that  before." 

"  Yes.  I  fought  all  through  one  of  their  cam- 
paigns, such  as  they  are.  The  war  there  is  per- 
petual, you  know." 

She  read  on: 

"We  have  the  best  authority  for  stating  that  there  is  no 
truth  in  the  rumor  extensively  circulated  in  New  York  and 
Newport  some  months  since,  to  the  effect  that  Mr.  Schuyler's 
prolonged  stay  in  Sumatra  has  been  due  to  the  fascinations 
of  a  certain  native  princess.  One  who  is  close  to  Mr.  Schuy- 
ler positively  denies  any  knowledge  of  such  a  state  of  affairs." 

"  Good  for  Dirck !  "  I  exclaimed. 

She  laid  down  the  paper.     "  Who  is  Dirck  ?  " 

"  Dirck  DuBois,  my  man-of-all-talents — my 
hunter  in  Sumatra,  just  at  present  my  chauffeur, 
and  I'm  not  ashamed  to  call  him  my  friend.  He 
drove  the  car  up  last  night.  Probably  you  didn't 
know  how  I  got  here — in  the  excitement." 

She  evaded  my  allusion.  "  The  Sumatran  prin- 
cess sounds  interesting.  Is  she  as  interesting  as 
she  sounds  ?  " 

"  If  she  is,  she's  ten  thousand  miles  away." 
2 


18  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

"Then  you  won't  confess  about  her?" 

"  No,  thank  you.     Let  bygones  be  bygones." 

She  let  a  long  sigh  escape  her,  as  if  she  found 
it  difficult  to  keep  up  a  pretence  of  good-humored 
interest.  She  leaned  her  cheek  on  her  left  hand  so 
that  I  could  see  only  part  of  her  face,  and  gazed 
out  the  window.  It  was  a  movement  of  dejection — 
almost  of  resignation.  Her  slender  figure  drooped 
a  little — the  girl  was  tired — tired  not  in  body  but 
in  mind. 

For  a  while  I,  too,  was  content  to  sit  in  silence. 
My  eyes,  roving  the  slope  of  the  hill  outside  the 
window,  hardly  saw  the  tall  elms  that  hedged 
"  Westbrook  Place,"  nor  the  grocer's  electric  de- 
livery-wagon climbing  the  grade  below  it.  They 
saw  a  stream  slipping  between  reedy  banks,  green 
and  gold  sunbirds  flashing  above  it,  and  where  the 
river  curved  below  a  forest  of  feather-bamboo,  a 
girl,  black-haired  and  slim,  waiting,  waiting. 

Our  eyes  roved  absently  from  the  window.  We 
gazed  blankly  at  each  other,  each  striving  to  come 
back  to  the  real  world.  She  was  the  first  to  arouse 
herself. 

"  A  penny  for  your  thoughts,"  she  said  faintly. 

"  Tuppence  for  yours.  Suppose  I  should  really 
insist  upon  them?  " 

"  '  My  mind  to  me  a  kingdom  is,'  "  she  quoted. 

"Very  well,"  I  rejoined.  "There  are  some 
things  I  won't  demand  of  you." 

"Will  you  have  another  cup  of  coffee?"  she 
asked. 


INVITATIONS  DECIDED  UPON         19 

"  Thank  you,  no.  I  wish  you  felt  like  eating 
something,  Nell." 

She  gave  me  a  look  that  was  almost  grateful. 
My  answering  smile  must  have  encouraged  her  to 
express  the  thought  uppermost  in  her  mind. 

"  You  won't  want  me  any  more  to-day,  will  you, 
Craig?  My  services  can  be  dispensed  with?  " 

I  answered  her  question  by  another.  "  Have 
you  a  headache — honor  bright?  " 

Her  mouth  was  a  little  compressed,  but  she  an- 
swered bravely.  "  I  haven't  come  to  lying — yet." 

"  I  know  it,"  I  said  quickly.  "  I  beg  your  par- 
don, Nell.  I  didn't  mean " 

"  You've  had  cause  enough  to  doubt  me,  I  ad- 
mit," she  returned.  "  No,  I  haven't  a  headache. 
I  suppose — on  the  stage — they'd  call  it  a  heart- 
ache." 

"  I  see.  Then  I  won't  want  you  to-day,  but  I 
will  to-night." 

"  To-night  ?  "  Her  eyes  widened.  Their  deep 
hazel  took  on  a  sudden  amber  glow,  steady  and 
strong.  Her  chin  was  resolute. 

"  To-night  at  dinner,  you  know,"  I  explained 
carelessly. 

"At  dinner?" 

"  Yes — and  have  some  people  in,  if  you  will. 
It  needn't  be  many — about  three  couples  will  be 
enough,  don't  you  think?  " 

"  Three  too  many !  A  formal  dinner — here — 
to-night ! " 


20  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

I  affected  to  misunderstand  her  exclamation. 
"  Oh,  nothing  formal.  It's  too  short  notice  for 
that,  isn't  it?  If  you'll  write  the  notes  I'll  just 
send  Dirck  around  in  the  car — that'll  be  easy 
enough.  If  it's  too  sudden  to  suit  anyone,  he  or 
she  can  decline,  and  we  can  try  the  next  one.  One 
can  always  pick  up  a  spare  man  or  girl  somewhere." 

"  Craig !  "  she  cried,  almost  in  a  wail,  "  you  can't 
mean  it !  You  can't  be  in  earnest !  " 

"  What  ?  Certainly  I  am — why  not  ?  A  very 
suitable  occasion  for  a  little  impromptu  dinner, 
isn't  it?  It  will  probably  be  in  the  Herald  to-mor- 
row: 'a  welcome  to  the  distinguished  explorer,  Mr. 
Craig  Schuyler '  and  all  that — 'a  recherche  little 
affair  given  by  his  hostesses,  Mrs.  Sutphen  and  her 
charming  daughter.'  I  can  fancy  how  it  will  run: 
6  It  will  be  remembered  that,  before  his  abrupt  de- 
parture from  America  some  four  years  ago,  Miss 

Sutphen  and  Mr.  Schuyler '  and  so  forth,  and 

so  forth." 

She  stretched  both  hands  toward  me  in  a  sudden 
gesture,  imploring  and  passionate. 

"  Craig !  Think !  How  can  we  sit  at  dinner — 
laugh  and  smile  and  talk,  as  if  nothing  had  hap- 
pened." 

"  Nothing  has  happened,"  I  rejoined,  "  that  is, 
so  far  as  they're  concerned — outsiders,  I  mean. 
They  don't  know  anything,  and  I  promise  you  they 
won't  learn  anything  from  what  I'll  say  or  do. 
You  needn't  be  afraid  of  that." 


INVITATIONS  DECIDED  UPON        21 

"  But  a  dinner  with  you  there !  I'm  sure  I  can't 
stand  it." 

"  I'll  be  the  skeleton  at  the  feast?  Well,  I  think 
you'll  have  to  endure  it — I  fancy  you'll  survive." 

Her  lips  quivered  ominously,  and  her  eyes  were 
suspiciously  bright.  She  may  have  imagined  that 
her  pleading  would  move  me — until  the  night  before 
she  had  never  had  to  ask  anything  of  me  twice. 
Now  my  careless  indifference  to  her  wishes  crushed 
her.  She  put  one  hand  to  her  cheek — I  knew  she 
was  holding  back  the  tears  until  she  fairly  ached 
with  the  pain  of  it. 

"  Craig,"  she  said,  "  please — don't  make  me." 

For  a  moment  I  feared  for  my  own  resolution. 
I  rose  from  the  table  and,  walking  to  the  fireplace, 
faced  about  toward  her.  She,  too,  had  risen,  and 
was  standing  in  the  middle  of  the  room.  The  morn- 
ing sunlight,  glancing  through  the  squares  of  glass, 
shone  on  her  hair.  Her  slender  figure  swayed  a 
little.  She  strove  to  keep  her  teeth  from  pressing 
her  lower  lip. 

"  Please,  Craig,  don't  make  me,"  she  repeated. 

But  I  had  ceased  to  waver.  "  Really,"  I  said, 
"  I  thought  I'd  made  my  position  clear.  We  ar- 
ranged it  all  last  night,  didn't  we?  What's  the 
use  of  fighting  the  battle  over  again !  Don't  let's 
have  a  scene,  Nell — leave  all  that  to  your  mother. 
As  she  remarked  last  night,  my  conduct  isn't  gener- 
ous, certainly — not  even  gentlemanly,  perhaps — in 
fact,  I  believe  she  said  I  was  an  out-and-out 


22  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

bounder.  That  wasn't  a  very  judicious  remark  for 
a  lady  in  her  awkward  position,  by  the  way.  But 
let  it  go — I  admit  I'm  playing  the  bounder — and 
I  don't  care.  I  don't  want  to  be  brutal — at  least, 
not  any  more  brutal  than  necessary — but  I've  got 
you  both  in  the  hollow  of  my  hand,  and  I  don't 
intend  to  let  you  go — not  easily.  I'm  perfectly 
willing  to  answer  to  your  brother  whenever  he  comes 
— I  suppose  you've  sent  for  him,  haven't  you?  " 

"Ned?     No!" 

"You  haven't  had  a  chance?  Well,  I'll  argue 
my  conduct  with  Ned  if  he  should  turn  up.  In  the 
meanwhile  I  want  the  dinner  to  come  off.  I  want 
the  pleasure  of  sitting  at  your  table  and  feeling 
that  it's  really  mine.  That's  my  whim,  and  I'll 
gratify  whatever  whim  I  please  just  now." 

"Please!" 

"  It's  no  use,"  I  said.  "  I'll  ask  you  to  write 
the  notes  at  once.  Let's  see — whom  shall  we  ask? 
Aleck  Westbrook  and  his  sister  are  two — I'd  almost 
forgotten  poor  Rex  had  a  sister — she  must  be 
quite  grown-up.  Are  the  Willy  Archers  here  ?  " 

She  nodded  miserably. 

"  That'll  make  four.  And  John  and  Augusta 
Savarton — I  saw  by  the  papers  they  were  here. 
There's  our  six.  Yes,  and  old  General  Savarton 
for  your  mother.  Do  you  think  of  anyone  better? 
I'll  go  in  to  dinner  with  you,  if  you'll  allow  me 
the  honor." 

She  spoke  with  difficulty,  her  face  very  white. 


INVITATIONS  DECIDED  UPON         23 

"  I  can  see  you've  something  back  of  this.  Craig, 
you  didn't  use  to  sneer  so  terribly ! " 

"  I  didn't  have  cause." 

"  Surely  you  don't  mean  to  tell  them — every- 
thing— to-night." 

"  Heaven  forbid !  I  promise  you  I'll  behave  de- 
cently in  that  direction.  It  would  be  no  satisfac- 
tion to  me  to  have  them  know.  I'll  be  more  than 
polite — more  than  respectful — never  fear !  " 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Wait  and  see,"  I  said  airily. 

She  stared  at  me.  Then  the  tears  brimmed  her 
eyes  and  slipped  down  her  cheeks. 

She  did  not  sob,  but  stood  so  for  a  long  moment. 
Then,  not  even  lifting  her  hands  to  her  face,  she 
turned  and  left  the  room. 


Ill 

A  GIRL  DISOBEYS  ORDERS 

I  ROUSED  myself  from  the  comfortable  chair  in 
the  library.  I  had  been  reading  and  musing  a 
good  hour  since  breakfast. 

I  fumbled  through  a  pile  of  photographs  on  the 
table — there  was  Ellen,  in  a  dozen  different  cos- 
tumes at  a  dozen  ages.  At  another  time  I  might 
be  interested  in  comparing  the  innocent  looks  of 
the  older  likenesses  with  those  taken  more  recently 
— there  was  more  than  one  of  the  former  that  had 
its  memory  for  me.  But  now  I  felt  restless,  dis- 
posed to  roam  about  the  house,  to  play  the  troll 
with  Mrs.  Sutphen,  or  Ellen,  or  even  with  Theresa, 
if  I  happened  to  encounter  her. 

So  presently  I  wandered  into  the  drawing-room. 
It  was  a  rather  small  apartment,  for  the  library, 
dining-room  and  wide  hall  took  up  more  than  their 
share  of  the  lower  floor  of  "  Red  Cedars."  But 
small  as  it  was,  it  was  well-lighted  by  broad  win- 
dows, as  were  all  the  rooms  in  the  house,  and 
pleasantly  garnished  with  divans,  pillows,  and  a 
piano. 

I  seated  myself,  and  struck  a  few  chords — it  was 
long  since  I  had  touched  an  instrument.  My  mind 
went  back  to  other  days,  and  I  began  to  sing: 

24 


A  GIRL  DISOBEYS  ORDERS  25 

"  Here  in  wind-swept  Balabac 

I  look  from  my  palm-tree  dome, 
Southward  o'er  the  ocean  track 

Eyes  and  heart  together  roam — 
Eyes  and  heart  with  longing  seek 

Your  dear  boat  above  the  foam. 
Happy  tears  are  on  my  cheek, 

Dreaming  that  my  love  is  home." 

Just  outside  the  window — opened  for  the  morn- 
ing airing — a  man's  subdued  voice  repeated  the 
chorus  of  the  song — his  tenor  chiming  with  my  bass 
as  it  had  done  a  hundred  times  before : 

"  Happy  tears  are  on  my  cheek, 
Dreaming  that  my  love  is  home." 

I  struck  the  final  chord,  then  strolled  to  the 
window  and  looked  out. 

Dirck  DuBois  was  polishing  my  car,  humming 
as  he  worked.  He  was  a  man  of  twenty-eight  or 
thirty,  deep-chested  and  stocky.  On  first  consid- 
eration of  his  straight,  fair  hair  and  blue  eyes — not 
to  mention  his  tenor  voice — a  stranger  might  think 
him  a  model  of  peasant  simplicity — an  impression 
by  no  means  justified  by  the  man's  real  character. 
He  had  been  in  more  than  one  tight  place  with  me, 
and  had  the  courage  of  one  of  Napoleon's  grenadiers. 

While  he  wrestled  with  an  erring  carbureter, 
Theresa  stood  as  close  to  him  as  the  imminent 
danger  of  soiling  her  white  apron  would  permit. 
Her  eyes  watched  him  admiringly,  and  her  clever 
little  tongue  plied  him  with  flattery. 


26  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

"  You're  awful  smart  to  do  all  that,  Mr.  Du- 
Bois.  You  handle  all  those — those  things  like  I 
would  a  needle." 

Dirck  was  halfway  under  the  car  by  this  time, 
and  only  grunted  pleasantly  in  acknowledgment  of 
her  compliment. 

"  I  don't  see  how  you  can  do  it  so.  My !  I  wish 
I  was  strong  like  a  man.  I  wish  I  was  a  man 
anyhow,  if  I  could  be  like  you." 

Dirck  took  a  screw  from  his  mouth.  "  I  prefer 
you  as  you  are  ma'am'selle,  if  you  please.  You're 
far  more  charming  as  you  are,  I  assure  you." 

"Do  you  think  so  really,  Mr.  DuBois?  You're 
just  guyin'  me,  ain't  you?  I  guess  I  ain't  half  as 
nice  as  lots  of  girls  you've  seen  travelling.  You've 
been  every wheres,  haven't  you?  " 

"  Everywhere  except  heaven  and  hell,  Ma'am'selle 
Theresa,  and  I  have  no  doubt  I  will  visit  one 

or  the  other  in  good  time — probably "  His 

conclusion  was  lost  in  the  clatter  of  his  monkey- 
wrench. 

The  maid  smoothed  her  apron.  "  Have  you 
always  been  with  Mr.  Schuyler,  Mr.  DuBois  ?  " 

"  Not  always.  I  was  born,  perhaps,  two  years 
before  monsieur.  He  failed  to  employ  me  during 
those  years — such  thoughtlessness  is  not  like  mon- 
sieur." The  fellow  never  moved  a  muscle  of  his 
face. 

Theresa  dropped  her  voice  insinuatingly,  and 
smoothed  her  apron  afresh.  "  Is  it  true  what  they 


A  GIRL  DISOBEYS  ORDERS  27 

say  of  him,  Mr.  DuBois?  Is  he  married  to  one  of 
those  savages  out  there  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  ma'am'selle,"  returned  Dirck  deprecat- 
ingly,  "  not  married." 

"  You  know  what  I  mean.  Did  he  have — was  he 
— did  he  pretend  to  be  married  to  anybody?  Of 
course,  their  heathen  ways  ain't  the  same  as  a  real 
wedding.  I  suppose  he  called  it  that,  though. 
They  say  here  he's  been  real  wicked  out  in — in 
China,  wasn't  it?" 

Dirck  laid  down  the  monkey-wrench  and  handful 
of  waste,  and  rose  to  his  knees. 

"  Ma'am'selle,"  he  said  solemnly,  "  will  you  prom- 
ise never  to  tell  as  long  as  you  live?" 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Theresa  eagerly. 

"  Ah,  you  promise,  but  can  a  woman  keep  a 
secret  ?  " 

"  /  can— I'll  never  tell.     What  is  it?  " 

Dirck  looked  about  with  a  great  air  of  caution. 
"  Well,  then,  monsieur  had  seven  wives." 

"  Seven ! " 

"  Yes,  ma'am'selle — all  at  the  same  time." 

"Oh,  my!" 

"  I  assure  you.  And  every  evening  they  dined 
with  him,  extremely  decolletee." 

"  Oh,  Mr.  DuBois !  " 

"  It  is  quite  true."  His  face  assumed  an  ex- 
pression of  pleased  recollection.  "  They  were  a 
lovely  sight,  ma'am'selle.  First  one  would  see  their 
seven  smooth  necks " 


28  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

But  Theresa  waited  to  hear  no  more.  With  a 
horrified  giggle  she  snatched  up  her  skirt  and  ran 
for  it. 

Dirck  stared  after  her  open-mouthed.  I  declare 
the  man  did  not  even  smile,  until  I  hailed  him. 

"  Good-morning,  Dirck.  That's  a  frightful 
reputation  you've  been  giving  me.  Theresa  will 
think  I'm  a  real  Bluebeard." 

He  faced  about  and  touched  his  cap,  his  eyes 
twinkling,  his  lips  on  a  broad  grin. 

"  Good-morning,  monsieur.  That  little  piece 
wants  to  know  more  than  is  good  for  her,  perhaps. 
I  gave  you  as  many  wives  as  a  Solomon." 

"  You  shocked  her." 

"Ah,  no — she  was  not  so  shocked  as  she  pre- 
tended. Hardly,  monsieur,  I  think.  Ma'am'selle 
Theresa  has  a  certain  light  in  the  back  of  her  eyes 
— she  was  not  born  yesterday.  It  is  well  to  play 
the  innocent,  however,  until  it  is  time  to  do  other- 
wise. I  like  a  woman  none  the  less  for  that." 

"  You're  a  cynic,  Dirck." 

"  I  have  been  three  years  with  monsieur." 

"  You  have  me  there.  Well,  we've  been  here  ten 
hours  or  so — how  do  you  like  the  place  so  far?  " 

"  The  chef  is  French,  the  butler  is  English,  one 
of  the  maids  is  Irish,  and  the  other  is  Theresa.  I 
am  satisfied." 

"  I'm  glad  of  it.     I  may  stay  here  some  time." 

"  As  monsieur  pleases."  His  eyes  lighted  and  he 
waved  his  hand  toward  the  surrounding  hills.  "  The 


A  GIRL  DISOBEYS  ORDERS  29 

forest,  is  it  not  charming?  It  is  not  the  jungle 
we  know,  but  yet  charming  in  its  way.  Is  there 
game,  perhaps?  I  would  like  to  feel  a  rifle  in  my 
hands  again." 

"  A  few  rabbits,  I  suppose.  Maybe  a  fox  or  two 
has  escaped  the  Hunt  and  the  natives'  poison.  By 
the  way,  I  think  Miss  Sutphen  and  I  will  take  a 
turn  in  the  hills,  after  you've  delivered  some  notes 
she's  writing." 

"  Yes,  monsieur.  Theresa  brought  them  to  me 
just  now."  He  touched  the  pocket  of  his  leather 
coat.  "  Where  shall  I  meet  monsieur  and  made- 
moiselle? Mademoiselle  Sutphen  went  out  nearly 
an  hour  ago,  as  monsieur  knows." 

"Eh!  What?"  I  exclaimed.  "She  went  out? 

What  the  devil "  I  checked  myself.  "  Oh,  of 

course,  I'd  forgotten.  Yes,  about  an  hour  ago. 
Which  way  did  she  go?  " 

Although  I  tried  to  control  myself,  my  face 
must  have  betrayed  my  exasperation  at  Ellen's  de- 
fiance of  my  orders.  I  had  told  her  expressly  that 
she  was  to  go  nowhere  without  my  permission. 

Dirck  averted  his  eyes  and  adjusted  his  wrench 
with  elaborate  care.  He  knew  he  had  touched  the 
nerve  of  some  serious  matter,  and  strove  to  put  me 
at  my  ease.  He  answered  carelessly. 

"  Mademoiselle  went  as  if  for  a  walk — up  the 
hill,  I  think.  I  hardly  noticed."  He  stooped  and 
pulled  at  the  emergency-brake.  "  This  clutch — it 
is  a  little  awkward  of  late." 


30  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

"  Well,"  I  said,  "  deliver  the  notes  as  soon  as 
you  can."  I  was  about  to  turn  from  the  window. 
"  Oh,  by  the  way,  Dirck,  come  to  my  room  to-night 
— after  dinner  sometime.  I've  a  little  business  to 
talk  over  with  you." 

"  Yes,  monsieur.     At  twelve   o'clock?  " 

"  Thereabouts.     Up  the  hill,  you  said?  " 

"  Yes,  monsieur." 

I  returned  to  the  library — to  think.  Why  had 
Ellen  disobeyed  me,  and  how  had  she  dared  to  act 
against  my  wishes  even  in  the  smallest  degree? 
Surely  she  could  not  have  so  chafed  under  my 
yoke — so  recently  imposed — as  to  have  determined 
to  let  me  do  my  worst,  regardless  of  consequences. 
She  would  shrink  from  them  for  her  mother's  sake 
if  not  for  her  own.  Disobedience  for  the  mere 
sake  of  defiance  was  impossible. 

I  had  told  her  that  she  must  consult  me  about  her 
goings-out  and  comings-in,  and  that  I  would  refuse 
her  permission  to  make  a  call,  if  I  so  desired.  And 
yet  she  had  left  the  house  without  my  knowledge. 
She  had  disobeyed  me  in  this  little  matter,  she  might 
do  so  in  a  greater — it  was  necessary  to  call  a  halt 
at  once.  I  would  find  her  and  punish  her  forthwith 
in  a  way  she  could  not  forget. 

To  make  this  resolution  was  easy,  but  to  carry 
it  out  was  a  different  matter.  She  had  gone  for  a 
walk,  with  or  without  an  objective,  but  whither? — 
into  the  hills,  or  simply  to  make  a  morning  call  at 
any  one  of  half  a  dozen  cottages  within  the  radius 
of  a  mile  or  so  ?  I  would  chance  it. 


A  GIRL  DISOBEYS  ORDERS  31 

In  my  dressing-room  I  speedily  got  myself  into 
my  favorite  walking  togs — laced  half-boots,  flex- 
ible and  fitting  like  a  glove — a  design  of  my  own; 
army  khaki  trousers,  not  too  tight;  a  loose  coat, 
cut  very  short,  and  a  soft  hat.  I  had  tramped 
many  a  mile  through  the  dank  Sumatran  jungle  in 
that  rig. 

From  the  bottom  of  my  dressing  case  I  drew  a 
certain  African  curio.  It  was  a  bracelet  of  iron, 
not  very  thick  but  nearly  two  inches  broad.  Be- 
ing native-wrought,  the  quality  of  the  work  was 
so  crude  that  the  ore  had  retained  almost  its  orig- 
inal color — a  dark  red.  It  was  quite  plain  in 
design,  except  where  it  clasped,  or  rather  locked, 
for  the  thing  was  secured  by  a  regular  key  of  con- 
siderable size. 

The  lock  was  the  most  curious  part  of  the  brace- 
let. It  was  shaped  into  the  face  of  a  Nubian.  The 
face,  expressive  of  a  thousand  years  of  uncomplain- 
ing submission,  looked  up  at  one  as  if  momentarily 
expecting  to  feel  the  sting  of  the  lash  or  the  blow 
of  the  slave-driver's  fist.  The  native  smith  who  had 
wrought  that  face  must  himself  have  marched  many 
a  weary  mile  yoked  in  the  slave  caravan. 

I  dropped  bracelet  and  key  into  my  coat-pocket. 
Then  I  picked  up  my  gloves,  found  a  stick,  and  sal- 
lied out  of  the  house. 


IV 

APPLE-PIE  WITH  CREAM 

AT  a  sheer  venture  I  struck  into  the  road  that 
wound  up  the  hill.  I  had  gone  only  a  few  rods 
when  a  slim  blonde  girl  on  horseback  appeared 
around  the  curve,  followed  by  a  groom. 

I  lifted  my  hat  as  she  trotted  past.  She  re- 
turned the  bow  but  so  distantly  that  I  knew  she  had 
not  recognized  me.  Small  wonder !  I  had  not  seen 
Norah  Westbrook  for  nearly  four  years,  and  my 
face,  burned  by  tropic  suns,  was  well-nigh  as  dark 
as  a  Malay's. 

I  glanced  after  her,  admiring  the  easy  swing  of 
her  body  and  the  curve  of  the  boot  beneath  the 
dark-blue  riding  habit.  Presently  she  turned  her 
head  to  look  back  at  me — the  sight  of  me  had  puz- 
zled her.  I  could  see  recognition  dawning  in  her 
eyes.  At  another  time  I  would  have  relished  a  chat 
with  her,  but  at  present  I  was  too  absorbed  in  run- 
ning down  my  fugitive — a  fugitive  from  justice,  I 
reflected  grimly. 

Yet,  as  I  walked  briskly  into  the  hills,  my 
thoughts  returned  to  Norah  Westbrook.  She  had 
been  only  a  long-legged,  rangey  girl  when  I  had 
left  home — a  very  fair  counterpart  of  her  brother, 
Aleck,  as  I  remembered  him.  Now,  my  brief 
glimpse  had  found  her  a  charming  woman.  I 


APPLE-PIE  WITH  CREAM  33 

reckoned  over  the  time — she  must  be  twenty,  and 
probably  had  been  out  a  year  or  two. 

She  was  one  of  the  guests  invited  for  the  dinner 
that  night — I  began  to  feel  impatient  to  make 
acquaintance  with  this  new  embodiment  of  a  child- 
ish fancy.  I  had  given  Norah  toys  when  she  was 
a  baby,  and  candy  as  she  grew  into  a  schoolgirl. 
Her  older  brother,  Rex,  had  been  one  of  my  dearest 
friends.  Poor  fellow !  typhoid  fever  had  taken 
him  off  four  years  before — not  long  before  my  last 
interview  with  the  Sutphens,  that  interview  which 
had  driven  me  wandering. 

Norah's  eyes  had  fallen  on  me,  blue  and  clear 
and  steady — her  face  had  begun  to  lighten  as  she 
looked.  I  could  swear  she  would  be  worth  the 
knowing. 

I  wondered  what  I  would  read  in  those  eyes  if 
the  heart  beneath  them  could  know  of  my  attitude 
toward  Ellen  Sutphen.  Perhaps  they  would  be 
filled  with  scorn  of  me — me  ungenerous,  unkind, 
lacking  in  chivalry  and  decency.  Perhaps,  how- 
ever, they  would  not  speak  until  they  had  had  a 
chance  to  see  more,  to  find  the  just  cause  of  my 
brutal  attitude.  Even  as  a  child,  Norah  had  had 
a  certain  serenity  of  judgment,  the  more  conspicu- 
ous since  it  was  in  contrast  to  Aleck's  headlong 
character.  I  brought  myself  up  with  a  jerk — here 
was  a  pretty  to-do  over  a  pair  of  eyes ! 

It  was  one  thing  for  me  to  start  out  at  a  venture 
to  find  my  runaway,  but  it  was  quite  another  to  have 
3 


34  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

that  venture  bring  any  satisfactory  result.  That 
afternoon  I  found  Berkshire  Township  uncomfort- 
ably large. 

I  tramped  to  the  Halfway  House  on  the  road 
to  Mount  Airy,  and  then  to  Mount  Airy  Inn  itself. 
Ellen  was  in  neither  place,  nor  had  anyone  seen 
her.  I  had  no  better  luck  at  the  Tollgate  along  the 
Stockwell  road. 

Oak  Leaf  Lodge  on  Tulquam  Lake,  the  only 
other  place  I  could  think  of,  was  destitute  of  guests. 
The  boathouse  keeper  complained  mournfully  that 
not  a  single  canoe  had  been  launched  that  day — 
"  he  reckoned  as  ha-ow  it  was  a  lee-tie  cold  for 
boat-tin'." 

I  realized  at  last  that  I  was  on  the  wildest  of 
wild-goose  chases,  but  I  did  not  greatly  care.  I 
walked  steadily,  if  at  random,  until  the  day  was 
nearly  over — I  had  gotten  a  bite  of  lunch  at  Oak 
Leaf  Lodge. 

My  exasperation  against  Ellen,  instead  of  in- 
creasing with  the  realization  that  I  was  searching 
for  a  needle  in  a  haystack,  diminished  with  every 
mile  I  walked.  I  was  more  and  more  able  to  enjoy 
the  crimsoning  maples,  the  red-cheeked  apples  in  the 
orchards  beside  the  road,  and  the  scarlet  banners 
of  the  sumac  flaming  across  bits  of  swampy  ground. 

Unless  Ellen  were  really  in  a  frenzy  of  fear  and 
remorse,  I  knew  she  could  no  longer  be  roaming 
about  the  countryside.  She  must  have  returned 
home  and,  by  this  time,  was  making  her  household 


APPLE-PIE  WITH  CREAM  35 

preparations  for  the  dinner  to-night.  I  fancied 
her  lips  were  trembling  even  as  she  ordered  matters, 
and  her  hazel  eyes  widening  as  she  thought  of  the 
inevitable  meeting  with  me. 

My  heart  softened  a  little  at  thought  of  the 
appealing  glance  she  would  be  sure  to  give  me.  I 
promised  myself  that  I  would  not  be  harsh  with  her 
after  all.  Perhaps  I  would  even  forego  the  purpose 
with  which  I  had  dropped  the  iron  bracelet  in  my 
pocket.  If  I  relented,  she  might  be  bound  more 
helplessly  than  if  I  carried  matters  with  a  high 
hand. 

She  had  looked  very  tired  at  breakfast.  Tired 
and  pitiful,  too,  I  confessed.  Well,  it  was  the  way 
I  had  hoped  to  make  her  look — hoped  it  ever  since 
I  had  received  a  cablegram  from  the  United  States, 
in  Paris  a  month  before. 

The  afternoon  was  nearly  spent  before  I  could 
make  up  my  mind  to  abandon  my  idle  ramble. 
Finally  a  glance  at  my  watch  proved  that,  if  I 
expected  to  reach  "  Red  Cedars  "  in  time  to  dress 
for  dinner  without  hurrying,  I  must  start  homeward 
at  once. 

I  came  to  this  determination  at  a  point  where  a 
sizable  river  brawled  down  a  gorge  whose  sides 
flamed  in  autumn  colors.  It  was  a  neighborhood 
wholly  new  to  me — I  was  rather  at  a  loss  to  deter- 
mine in  what  direction  Bannocks  and  "  Red 
Cedars  "  lay. 

At  the  highest  point  of  the  road  that  skirted  the 


36  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

valley,  a  cottage  peeped  from  an  apple-orchard. 
No  doubt  its  occupant  would  be  able  to  point  out 
my  homeward  course. 

I  ascended  the  road,  lured  almost  as  much  by  the 
blushing  cheeks  of  the  apples  in  the  orchard,  and 
the  cozy  shyness  of  the  nestling  cottage,  as  by 
the  desire  to  learn  my  way.  Glancing  back  as  I 
gained  the  higher  ground,  I  saw  that  a  village 
straggled  in  the  hollow  below  me — the  cottage  in 
the  apple-trees  sat  like  a  vidette  upon  the  hill 
above  it. 

A  low  stone  wall  surrounded  the  cottage  and  its 
grove.  The  house — white-clapboarded  and  green- 
shuttered — was  set  on  a  tiny  plateau  close  to  the 
edge  of  the  gorge.  The  wind  sighed  through  the 
apple-trees,  and  from  far  below  I  caught  the  cease- 
less murmur  of  the  river.  It  was  a  quiet  rustic 
home,  yet  I  thought — not  at  all  relevantly — of  the 
Dark  Tower  to  which  Rolande  came. 

Over  the  gate  swung  a  little  sign,  neatly  painted 
in  white  letters  on  a  black  board : 

FRESH  APPLE-PIE 

WITH  CREAM 

SOLD  HERE. 

The  sight  of  this  legend  cheered  me  immensely. 
I  would  be  certain  to  find  a  person  of  some  intelli- 
gence in  the  house — a  farmer's  wife  or  daughter — 
who  would  know  where  and  how  far  off  Bannocks 


APPLE-PIE  WITH  CREAM  37 

lay ;  and  furthermore,  I  promised  myself  a  goodly 
slice  of  homemade  pie,  "  with  cream,"  to  sustain  me 
on  my  homeward  tramp. 

With  this  pleasing  prospect  in  my  mind's  eye,  I 
turned  through  the  gateway,  mounted  the  steps, 
and  knocked  at  the  cottage  door. 

Silence  followed  my  knock.  Then  arose  a  skurry 
of  feet  within,  and  sounds  that  might  have  been 
hurried  whispers. 

"  A  stranger  disturbs  these  rustics,"  I  reflected. 
"  Probably  they  don't  see  a  customer  after  their 
pie  and  cream  more  than  once  a  week." 

I  repeated  my  knock  with  sufficient  emphasis. 
"  Come,  patient  Mariana,"  I  muttered  aloud,  "your 
faithless  lover  is  here  at  last."  There  was  no  re- 
sponse. "  Come,  Phyllis,"  I  urged,  "  come,  fairest 
maiden  of  the  wood,  and  open  to  your  wandering 
shepherd  lad."  A  door  slammed  within — I  beat 
lustily  on  the  portal.  "  What,  Phyllis,  unkind " 

The  door  opened  and  a  girl  stood  before  me. 
She  was  not  the  usual  type  of  country  lass,  round- 
cheeked,  plump  and  rosy.  On  the  contrary,  she 
was  thin  and  rather  pale,  and  her  eyes,  large  and 
soft,  had  dark  shadows  beneath  them.  She  wore 
a  plain  muslin  gown,  but  I  noticed  it  was  freshly 
starched.  Her  hair  lay  in  neat  coils  about  her 
head. 

"  Good  afternoon,"  I  said. 

She  spoke  in  a  confusion  that  accorded  with  her 
frightened  eyes.  "  Good  afternoon — sir." 


38  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

I  was  at  once  aware  that  something  beyond  mere 
rustic  embarrassment  at  sight  of  a  stranger  had 
produced  the  girl's  pallor  and  cramped  her  tongue 
— she  did  not  look  like  one  to  be  upset  so  easily. 
Instantly  I  was  on  edge  for  a  new  experience,  per- 
haps for  a  real  adventure. 

I  lifted  my  hat  and  summoned  my  most  engaging 
smile. 

"  I  see  you  sell  apple-pies,"  I  said.  "  I  haven't 
eaten  one  since  I  was  a  boy,  and  I  feel  I  need  one 
immediately.  Will  you " 

"  Oh,  apple-pie ! "  interrupted  the  girl  in  what 
was  almost  an  exclamation  of  relief.  "  Is  that  all  ? 
Pies?  Oh,  yes,  sir.  No,  sir,  I  mean." 

"  But  you  have  the  sign  up,"  I  protested. 

She  followed  my  pointing  finger  as  if  she  had 
never  seen  the  words  before.  "  Fresh  apple-pie, 
with  cream,  sold  here,"  I  repeated. 

"  Oh,  I  mean  we're  all  out  of  them." 

"  Out  of  them  ?  "  I  answered  laughing.  "  Then 
you  ought  to  take  that  sign  down.  I'd  my  mind 
all  made  up  for  an  apple-pie — with  cream." 

The  girl  smiled  faintly.  "  I'm  sorry,  sir. 
We're — we're  all  out  to-day.  We — haven't  baked 
this  week." 

I  stepped  quietly  past  her.  "  There's  one  you've 
overlooked,"  I  said.  "  You  mean  you  haven't 
baked  any  for  sale,  of  course.  I  see  there's  a  fresh 
one  on  the  table  there." 

The  girl  had  half  extended  her  arm  as  if  she 


APPLE-PIE  WITH  CREAM  39 

would  have  prevented  my  entrance.  She  blushed 
to  the  eyes  at  my  inquiring  glance.  I  pointed  to 
the  delectable  concoction  on  the  table  of  the  small 
room.  Its  rich  brown  surface  was  still  smoking 
from  the  oven. 

'*  I  hope  even  if  you  were  saving  it  for  your 
own  supper,"  I  went  on,  "  you'll  surrender  it  to  me." 

To  my  surprise  she  began  to  wrap  the  pie  with- 
out a  word  and  in  evident  haste.  While  she  was 
thus  engaged  I  gazed  about  the  place. 

We  were  in  the  living-room,  plainly  but  neatly 
furnished.  At  one  side,  as  I  now  saw,  was  a  row 
of  shelves  fairly-well  garnished  with  pies.  A  little 
earlier  in  the  day  the  room  would  have  been  flooded 
in  sunlight,  but  at  that  hour,  the  sun,  lowering 
across  the  valley,  merely  touched  the  shelves,  the 
girl's  pale  face,  and  the  very  apple-pie,  with  crim- 
son fingers. 

To  my  right  a  door  stood  a  trifle  ajar — through 
the  crack  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  sort  of  gallery 
that  seemed  to  overlook  the  gorge. 

I  happened  to  glance  at  the  girl.  She  was  watch- 
ing me  furtively.  A  sunbeam  made  a  scarlet  gash 
across  her  cheek. 

I  strolled  carelessly  toward  the  door  ajar.  The 
girl,  pretending  to  devote  her  whole  attention  to 
wrapping  the  precious  pie,  could  hardly  contain  her 
anxiety. 

"  Do  you  want  anything,  sir?  You  can  get  a 
drink  of  water  at  the  pump,  in  the  kitchen." 


40  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

"  I  was  wondering  what  you  have  here,"  I  said, 
moving  toward  the  inner  door.  "  It  looks  like  a 
summer  garden." 

"  No,  sir.     The  door  doesn't  lead  anywhere." 

"A  door  that  doesn't  lead  anywhere?"  I 
laughed.  "  That  is  unusual,  isn't  it?  " 

"  Of  course — my  room,"  she  stammered  with 
increasing  agitation.  "  That's  private,  sir — you 
can't  go  there — oh ! "  I  had  pushed  the  door  wide. 

Before  I  could  wink  a  man  stepped  past  me,  and 
crossing  the  room  in  two  strides,  disappeared  down 
a  back  hall. 

On  the  balcony,  the  slender  figure  and  white  face 
of  Ellen  Sutphen  confronted  me.  I  had  found  the 
fugitive. 


I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

FOR  a  moment  Ellen  and  I  faced  each  other — 
neither  moved  nor  spoke.  A  door  slammed  at  the 
end  of  a  passageway — her  eyes  widened. 

No  doubt  she  expected  me  to  assail  her  with  a 
savage  or  sarcastic  remark.  If  she  had  been  de- 
fiant, I  might,  indeed,  have  adopted  the  former 
tone;  if  pleading,  perhaps  the  latter — but  she  was 
neither  the  one  nor  the  other. 

Her  cheeks  were  very  white,  but  she  displayed 
neither  scorn  nor  fear  of  me.  A  sort  of  h'stlessness 
held  her  whole  body,  like  that  which  pervades  a 
prisoner  who  has  been  tortured  to  the  last  extrem- 
ity and  is  indifferent  to  further  suffering.  Utter 
apathy  was  all  I  could  read  in  her  pale  face. 

Through  the  open  doorway  I  could  see  the  coun- 
try girl  staring  in  our  direction,  her  lips  parted  as 
if  she  were  straining  every  nerve  to  listen,  her  hands 
still  mechanically  wrapping  the  apple-pie. 

Across  the  valley,  the  brilliant  colors  of  the 
maples  and  hickories  and  chestnuts  had  begun  to 
soften  with  the  declining  sun.  Far  below,  the  river 
murmured  against  its  rocks. 

I  looked  at  Ellen.  She  still  stood  motionless, 
her  eyes  unfathomable,  her  hands  clasping  a  little 
swaggerstick  she  carried.  The  curve  of  cheek,  neck 

41 


42  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

and  shoulder  was  outlined  in  gold  by  the  sunlight 
behind  her. 

I  motioned  toward  the  door — she  started  at  my 
gesture.  I  held  the  door  open  and  she  passed  me 
with  lowered  head  and  faintly-flushing  cheeks.  I 
followed  close. 

"  You  needn't  mind  about  the  pie,"  I  said  to  the 
staring  girl.  "  We  won't  stop  to  eat  it." 

Her  glance  swept  from  me  to  Ellen.  "  I  suppose 
—you'll  be  back,  Ellen?" 

"  I — I  think  not,  Mary,"  answered  my  captive. 
"  Not  to-day." 

"  I  think  not,  too,"  I  volunteered. 

The  country  girl  ignored  me.  "  When  can  you 
come?  "  she  asked. 

"  I — don't  know — when."  A  look  of  under- 
standing passed  between  the  two  women. 

It  was  only  when  Ellen  and  I  were  climbing  the 
rough  path  up  the  hill  that  I  remembered  I  had 
forgotten  to  inquire  the  way  home.  I  spoke  to  her 
for  the  first  time  that  afternoon. 

"  It's  getting  rather  late.  Do  you  know  the 
road  to  Bannocks  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  she  answered  in  a  low  tone.  "  We're 
going  in  the  right  direction.  This  is  a  short  cut." 

I  followed  her  without  further  remark.  She 
walked  steadily,  her  body  bending  from  the  waist 
to  meet  the  stiff  ascent.  I  congratulated  myself, 
that  in  spite  of  my  ever-smouldering  resentment 
against  the  girl,  I  was  able  to  appreciate  the  deli- 


I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET  43 

cate  curves  of  her  figure — the  straightness  of  her 
back,  the  soft  slope  of  her  shoulders. 

So  we  emerged  from  the  woods  and  followed  the 
path  across  a  down.  Only  the  rustle  of  the  grass 
and  the  sound  of  our  footsteps  broke  the  evening 
stillness. 

Suddenly  Ellen  whirled  about.  Her  eyes  met 
mine  defiantly,  and  her  cheeks  were  scarlet. 

"  Well,"  she  said,  "  you  haven't  asked  me  his 
name !  " 

"  His  name?  "  I  answered  stupidly.     "  Whose?  " 

"  The  man  you  saw " 

"  The  man  I  saw  with  you  in  the  cottage,"  I 
finished.  "  No,  so  I  haven't.  What's  the  use  ?  " 

The  color  began  to  fade  from  her  cheeks.  "  You 
mean — I'd  lie  to  you?" 

"  No,  not  at  all.  I'm  not  afraid  of  that — I  know 
you  wouldn't  lie.  You've  already  committed  all 
the  deception  you're  capable  of.  I  know  that." 

"  But  I've  just  deceived  you  by  coming  to  Mary 
Finney's  cottage." 

Half-whimsically  I  defended  the  girl  against  her- 
self. "  No,  I  don't  call  that  deception — it's  dis- 
obedience, flat  disobedience.  Not  so  bad  as  decep- 
tion, but  bad  enough.  I  told  you  I  didn't  want  you 
to  leave  the  house  without  my  permission,  but  I 
don't  remember  that  you  promised  anything." 

"  No-o-o.     Then — you  don't  know  who  he  is  ?  " 

"  I  haven't  the  least  idea — I  never  saw  him  be- 
fore." 


44  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

She  seemed  strangely  pertinacious  of  a  subject 
one  might  have  supposed  she  would  be  glad  to  drop 
as  soon  as  possible. 

"  You  aren't  going  to  make  me  tell  who  he  is?  " 

"  I  scorn  to  force  a  lady's  confidence.  I'm  not 
interested  in  the  man — it's  you  I'm  after." 

"  Oh." 

"  Yes.  You  left  the  house  against  my  express 
orders,  didn't  you?  " 

"  Yes— I  did." 

"  You'll  have  to  be  punished  for  it  then." 

She  gave  me  a  quick  glance.  "  Am  I  not  being 
punished — every  minute  ?  "  she  said. 

"  For  past  offenses,  yes.  You  must  have  a  par- 
ticular punishment  for  disobedience.  Give  me  your 
stick." 

She  was  quite  pale  by  this  time.  She  yielded  me 
the  silver-tipped  cane  with  a  singular  gesture,  half- 
imploring,  half-menacing. 

"  If — if  you "  Her  voice  died  away.  With 

an  effort  she  began  again.  "  If  you  strike  me  with 
that " 

"  Heaven  forbid  !  "  I  exclaimed.  "  It  hasn't 
come  to  that.  No,  I  merely  want  your  left  arm 
free  so  that  I  can  put  my  mark  on  it.  A  mark 
you  won't  soon  forget." 

"  Not — not  with  the  swaggerstick?  " 

"  I  promise  you,  no.     Hold  out  your  arm." 

She  obeyed,  watching  the  motions  of  my  fingers 
as  a  bird  watches  the  snake  that  holds  it  fascinated. 


I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET  45 

li  What  are  you  doing?  "  she  said  at  last. 

I  felt  in  my  pocket  and  drew  out  the  iron 
bracelet. 

"  This,"  I  answered,  and  slipped  the  trinket  on 
her  arm — it  was  more  nearly  a  handcuff  than  a 
bracelet.  I  locked  it  with  a  single  turn  of  the  key, 
and  dropped  the  key  into  my  pocket. 

"  You  can  disobey  me,  but  you'll  have  to  wear 
the  badge  to  pay  for  it." 

"  The  badge?  " 

"  Yes — of  servitude.  In  Africa  they  put  that 
tiling  on  slaves." 

She  looked  at  the  two-inch  band  of  iron  that 
gripped  her  arm  so  lightly  yet  so  irrevocably.  The 
submissive,  abject  face — the  face  of  the  Nubian 
bondsman — gazed  up  at  her  from  the  quaint  lock. 

I  could  not  see  her  eyes,  but  I  knew  she  was 
watching  me  through  the  veiling  lashes. 

"  So  a  slave  has  worn  this — in  Africa  ?  " 

"  I  took  it  from  one  myself." 

"  And  a  slave  is  to  wear  it  here?  " 

"  You  have  the  point  exactly." 

"  That's  fair." 

In  spite  of  myself  I  felt  a  thrill  of  admiration. 
"  By  Jove,  Nell,  you're  game ! " 

Again — as  at  breakfast  that  morning — she  gave 
me  the  little  ghost  of  a  smile. 

"  Now,"  I  said,  "  we  must  hurry,  if  we  want  to 
reach  home  in  good  time,  in  fact  in  any  time  at  all. 
Don't  forget  you've  a  dinner  on  to-night." 


46  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

She  led  the  way  at  once,  and  we  hurried  across 
the  downs.  Her  right  hand  furtively  touched  the 
bracelet  from  time  to  time.  Presently  her  soft 
profile  was  turned  toward  me  as  she  walked. 

"  At  dinner  to-night — how  can  I  explain — 
this?  "  She  held  up  her  left  hand. 

"  Don't  explain  it." 

"  But  someone  will  be  sure  to  ask  me  where  I 
got  it,  and  what  it  means.  Dot  Archer  probes  into 
everything,  and  Augusta  is  worse,  if  possible.  This 
— is  rather  unusual,  you  know." 

"  It  is  unusual,"  I  agreed. 

"  You  don't  mean  to  tell  them " 

"  No,  nothing.  If  anyone  inquires  about  it, 
say  it's  a  gift  from  me — that's  true.  They'll 
probably  take  it  for  Grecian  hammered  copper — 
you  see  its  reddish  color." 

"  Yes.  It  isn't  a  nasty  black  like  most  iron.  It 
is  iron,  isn't  it  ?  " 

"  Yes — native  manufacture.  That's  why  the  red 
shows  so  plainly.  Leave  impertinent  questioners  to 
me.  I'll  tell  them  it's  a  bit  of  Egyptian  bronze 
I  received  as  a  love-token  from  the  Queen  of 
Sheba.  That  ought  to  satisfy  the  most  exact- 
ing." 

"  You  aren't  as  cruel  as  you  might  be — Craig." 

"  Thank  you,  ma'am — don't  count  on  that, 
though.  I  could  be  worse  if  I  tried.  You  wear 
that  bracelet  for  my  satisfaction,  not  for  others' — • 
that's  all." 


I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET  47 

She  was  silent.  I  saw  only  the  white  neck,  and 
the  darkly-shining  hair  waving  to  her  soft  gray 
hat. 

I  wondered  what  she  was  thinking  about,  and 
could  have  laughed  aloud  when  presently  a  defiant 
declaration  floated  back  to  me. 

"  At  any  rate,  I  vow  I  won't  wear  short  sleeves 
to-night." 

"  I  never  could  presume  to  act  as  arbiter  of  a 
woman's  gowns,"  I  assured  her.  "  Do  you  still 
wear  white  a  good  deal,  Nell?  " 

She  gave  me  a  glimpse  of  her  profile — the  curve 
of  her  cheek  a  little  hard. 

"  No.  I  wear  black  mostly  now.  It's  more  suit- 
able, isn't  it?" 

"  You're  only  twenty-three." 

"  I'm  not  thinking  of  my  age." 

"  Oh,  I  see,"  I  returned.  "  Perhaps  you're 
right." 

By  this  time  we  had  crossed  the  upland  and 
were  following  the  path  about  a  hill.  The  deep- 
ening shadows  made  me  glance  at  my  watch. 

"  It's  nearly  six  o'clock.  How  far  are  we  from 
'Red  Cedars'?" 

"  Nearly  five  miles,  I  think.  We'll  be  in  good 
time,  but  we  must  hurry." 

"  Are  you  sure  you  know  the  way  ?  "  I  persisted. 

"  Perfectly.  I've  come  this  path  very 
often " 

She  broke  off  abruptly.     The  frightened  glance 


48  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

she  stole  at  me  showed  that  she  was  aware  she 
had  said  too  much.  I  did  not  fail  to  take  advan- 
tage of  her  slip. 

"  So  you  come  often  to  that  cottage?  Whose 
is  it — Mary  Finney's?  A  charming  pie-woman. 
I've  a  notion  to  come  this  path  very  often  myself." 

"  Mary  is  pretty." 

"  But  not  the  sole  attraction,  perhaps,"  I  re- 
turned airily.  "  The  next  time  you  go  to  the 
cottage  I  think  I'll  have  to  get  you  to  take  me  with 
you." 

"  If  you  like." 

"  Oh,  certainly.  But  will  you  like  it  and  will 
folike  it?" 

She  stopped  short. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  It's  plain  enough.  You  can't  imagine  I've 
forgotten  that  I  found  you  sitting  at  a  table  with 
a  man  who  ran  when  he  saw  me.  I  don't  like  a 
man  who  runs." 

"He  didn't  run." 

"  Well,  walked,  then — in  quick  time." 

"  You  told  me  just  now  you  weren't  interested 
in  him." 

"  I  thought  I  wasn't,  but  he's  a  hard  fact  that 
will  obtrude  himself.  As  I  say,  I  don't  like 
cowards." 

"  He  isn't  a  coward,"  she  flashed.  Her  defiant 
mood  changed  abruptly.  She  drew  a  little  shud- 
dering breath.  "  You're  right — he  is." 


I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET  49 

"  For  the  present,  requiescat  in  pace,"  I  said  with 
an  attempt  at  jocularity. 

She  turned  from  me  impatiently. 

Notwithstanding  her  assurances  that  we  would 
reach  "  Red  Cedars  "  in  good  time  for  dinner,  I 
was  beginning  to  have  my  doubts  in  the  matter, 
when  a  familiar  sound  set  my  suspicions  at  rest — 
a  quick  "  chug-chug  "  that  broke  out  around  the 
curve  of  the  hill. 

"  By  Jove !  "  I  exclaimed.  "  That's  my  car. 
Dirck  must  be  out  looking  for  us.  Is  there  a  road 
there?" 

"  Yes.  Rendezvous  Lane  runs  along  the  other 
side  of  the  hill." 

Responding  to  my  impatience  she  ran  lightly 
down  the  path,  with  me  in  close  pursuit.  Side  by 
side  we  sprang  into  a  sunken  road.  Dirck  was 
driving  slowly  along  between  its  shaly  sides. 

"  Hello,  Dirck,"  I  called.    "  Are  you  lost?  " 

He  betrayed  no  surprise.  "  I  was  looking  for 
monsieur,"  he  responded.  "  I  thought  mademoiselle 
might  have  wandered  farther  than  she  had  intended, 
and  would  be  tired." 

"Right!"  I  said.  "Thank  you,  Dirck.  We 
are  tired.  Home  it  is,  as  quick  as  you  can  get  us 
there." 

"  Yes,  monsieur." 

In  spite  of  his  admirable  composure,  he  gave  » 
slight  start  as  I  helped  Ellen  into  the  car.  He 
had  caught  sight  of  the  bracelet  on  her  arm.  The 
I 


50  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

carved  head  peered  out  from  the  cuff  of  her  shirt- 
waist— a  head  peculiar  to  itself,  of  a  sort  whose 
African  significance  he  well  understood.  His  glance 
swept  like  lightning  across  my  face — I  flatter  my- 
self it  was  devoid  of  expression.  With  a  slight 
smile  on  his  lips  as  if  in  contempt  of  his  own  folly, 
he  gave  his  attention  to  the  steering-wheel. 

I   tucked   a   rug   snugly   about   my   companion, 
nodded  to  Dirck,  and  away  we  flew. 


VI 

THROUGH  THE  DARKNESS 

WE  covered  a  mile  or  two  at  a  good  speed. 
Then  the  darkness  and  the  intricacies  of  the  by- 
roads compelled  Dirck  to  slow  down. 

The  car  lamps  had  not  been  lighted.  I  pre- 
ferred the  suggestion  of  mystery  in  walls  and  trees 
half-glimpsed  through  the  darkness  to  the  raw 
revelation  of  them  by  the  glaring  cone  of  light 
usually  projected  before  the  car  at  night. 

I  let  myself  dream  a  little — Nell  and  I  were  back 
in  the  old  days  bound  for  a  supper  at  Oak  Leaf 
Lodge  with  Will  Archer  and  poor  Rex  Westbrook 
and  half  a  dozen  others.  Or  she  and  I  alone  were 
off  for  a  lark  among  the  country  lads  and  lasses 
at  Tarnsdale — a  rehearsal  of  tableaux,  with  a 
hearty  country  dance  to  follow.  Or  we  were  wan- 
dering in  the  dusk  up  the  lanes  about  "  Red 
Cedars,"  our  faces  toward  the  stars,  and  our 
hearts  in  our  eyes  when  we  looked  at  each  other  as 
we  drew  near  home. 

I  felt  her  stir  beside  me. 

"  Craig — I  think  I  must  explain." 

"  No,  don't.  Didn't  we  agree  just  now  to  let 
the  fellow  rest  in  peace  ?  " 

"The  fellow?" 

"  Certainly.  Aren't  you  talking  about  your  en- 
tertainer at  Miss  Finney's  ?  " 

51 


52  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

"  Oh-h !  He's  only  a  part  of  it — a  part  of  what 
I  want  to  tell  you." 

"  Do  as  you  like,  Nell,  but  I  don't  see  that  there 
can  be  any  explanation." 

She  was  silent.  The  lap-rug  had  slipped  a  little, 
and  I  stooped  to  replace  it.  She  shivered  as  I 
touched  her  through  the  covering.  After  a  while 
she  spoke  again,  her  voice  monotonous  but  distinct, 
as  if  she  were  forcing  herself  to  a  task  she  abhorred. 

"  I  thought  I  could  stand  it — the  situation — 
your  position  here — but  I  can't.  It's  intolerable !  " 

"  Some  people  who  aren't  sensitive  to  dishonor 
are  sensitive  to  injury." 

"  Can't  you  conceive  of  a  person  sacrificing  him- 
self— yes,  herself — for  another  ? — doing  a  thing  she 
didn't  believe  in  ?  " 

"  You  mean  you  sacrificed  yourself,  of  course  ?  " 

"  If  you  like." 

I  laughed  shortly.  "  For  your  mother,  to  keep 
her  comfortable,  to  keep  her  luxurious — and  for 
yourself,  too !  I>o  you  call  that  self-sacrifice  ? 
Good  Lord,  Nell!  to  live  as  you  live,  to  keep  up 
'  Red  Cedars  '  this  minute — Jordan  and  Theresa 
and  the  rest — to  do  it  by  the  means  you've  taken — 
Good  Lord !  "  I  broke  off  at  a  loss  for  words. 

The  car  still  moved  cautiously  along  black  lanes. 
The  chug  of  the  machinery  shut  us  off  from  Dirck, 
the  sound  echoing  back  from  the  slopes  of  the  hills 
about  us.  We  seemed  to  be  lost  in  a  strange  world 
of  darkness  and  shadows  and  mists. 

"  You've  never  been  tried  in  the  way  I — we — 


THROUGH  THE  DARKNESS  53 

were,"  Ellen  went  on  monotonously.  "  If  you'll 
put  yourself  in  my  place  a  moment,  you'll  under- 
stand. I  must  tell  you " 

"  You  could  have  worked,"  I  broke  in,  "  worked 
as  thousands  of  women  do,  hundreds  of  them  as  well 
born  as  yourself." 

"  You  don't  understand,  Craig." 

"  I  understand  enough — too  much,  I'm  afraid. 
You  claim  credit  for  self-sacrifice  on  account  of 
what  you  did?  Real  self-sacrifice  would  mean  that 
you  must  be  a  stenographer,  exposed  to  the  famil- 
iarities of  office  routine — or  a  shop  girl,  kowtowing 
to  the  floor-walker — or  a  cloak-model,  stared  at  by 
other  women — or  a  governess,  annoyed  all  day 
long  by  spoiled  children.  You  preferred  to  sacri- 
fice yourself  in  another  and  an  easier  way." 

My  bitterness  of  heart  had  led  me  to  speak  with 
a  brutality  I  at  once  regretted.  But  she  clapped 
her  hands  applaudingly. 

"  Quite  a  harangue !  I  hadn't  given  you  credit 
for  so  much  imagination." 

My  self-reproach  vanished. 

"  Imagination !  " 

"  All  that  about  the  stenographer  and  the  shop 
girl  and  the  governess.  Really,  it  was  quite 
pathetic." 

I  tried  to  make  out  her  face  through  the  dark- 
ness, but  could  see  little  more  than  the  curve  of 
chin  and  cheek  half  turned  toward  me. 

"  Nell,"  I  said,  "  are  you  incorrigible,  or  are  you 
only  bluffing?  " 


54  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

"  You  may  take  your  choice." 

"  I  wish  to  God  I  knew  what  to  make  of  you," 
I  returned,  not  at  all  piously. 

We  were  topping  a  ridge,  and  all  at  once  a 
cluster  of  lights  twinkled  into  view  below  us,  glim- 
mering in  the  velvety  blackness  of  the  valley,  like 
a  handful  of  stars  reflected  in  a  pool. 

"  The  lights  o'  Bannocks  Town — and  home,"  I 
said. 

"  Such  a  home ! "  Her  tone  was  neither  faint 
nor  bitter,  but  quite  grave  as  if  stating  a  fact 
accepted  beyond  question.  "  Such  a  home — now !  " 

"  In  my  mind's  eye  I've  seen  those  lights  a 
hundred  times  during  the  last  four  years,"  I  said 
musingly.  "  That  light  there,  nearest  us — isn't 
that  *  Red  Cedars'?" 

"  Yes." 

"  I've  seen  that  light  flare  up,  glow  a  while,  and 
then  go  out  suddenly — half  round  the  world  I've 
seen  it.  *  Such  a  home — now  '  ?  The  cocoon  is  all 
right,  Nell,  only  if  the  butterfly  is  sound  inside  it." 

"A  parable?" 

"  Something  like  it." 

"  We've  given  up  the  motor  car,  at  least — mother 
and  I,"  she  said  half  mockingly.  "  That's  some- 
thing." 

"  Yes,  that's  something." 

"  And  Johnson,  our  chauffeur,  too.  He  was 
almost  as  clever  as  DuBois  there." 

Her  eyes  rested  with  interest  on  the  square  shoul- 


THROUGH  THE  DARKNESS  55 

ders  and  straight  back  in  front  of  her.  Dirck's 
leather  cap  set  off  his  close-cropped  head  to  advan- 
tage. His  ears,  placed  at  the  right  distance  be- 
tween jaw  and  crown,  were  small  and  well-shaped. 
The  neck  was  strong  but  not  too  thick.  He  began 
to  hum  softly  to  himself  in  his  pleasant  tenor  tones 
— the  humming  grew  into  words,  floating  faintly 
back  to  us  with  the  rushing  wind: 

" '  Vous  aurez  beau  faire  et  beau  dire 

L'oubli  me  serait  odieux — 

Et  je  vois  tou jours  son  sourire, 

Des  adieux — des  adieux.'" 

"  Is  that  your  man?  "  asked  Ellen.  "  He's  a  very 
superior-looking  person." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  I  returned,  carelessly,  "  people  often 
say  so.  Change  his  get-up  a  little  and  he  would 
pass  muster  anywhere." 

"  Yes — he  really  would."  She  sank  back  against 
the  cushions  with  a  tired  sigh — her  eyes  closed. 

It  was  quite  dark  when  we  descended  the  winding 
road  above  "  Red  Cedars."  Ellen  had  not  opened 
her  eyes  nor  I  my  lips  the  latter  part  of  the  way. 
I  was  busy  going  over  in  my  mind  the  events  of  the 
last  two  days,  and  was  willing  to  let  her  rest  for  a 
while.  Suddenly  the  lights  of  the  house  flashed 
before  us. 

"  We're  home,"  I  said.  "  Have  you  been 
asleep?  " 

Dark  as  it  was  I  could  see  the  flash  of  her  eyes. 


56  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

"  Asleep  ?  No — I've  been  thinking.  It  seems  to 
me  I  can't  sleep  any  more.  I  wish,  one  didn't  have 
to  think"  she  added  under  her  breath. 

I  swung  aside  the  rug  and  lifted  her  gently  to 
the  ground. 

"  Thinking  is  one  form  of  Tophet,"  I  said.  "  / 
know  that,  pretty  well.  I've  had  my  share  of  it 
in  my  time — on  your  account,  too,  fair  lady." 

.  The  lights  under  the  porte-cochere  fell  full  upon 
her.  She  straightened  herself  proudly  as  I  looked 
up  at  her  from  the  lower  step.  Dirck  and  the  car 
chug-chugged  away  toward  the  garage. 

"  You've  been  in  Tophet — on  my  account — 
really?" 

"  Yes — in  my  time.  That  time  is  long  past,  I 
promise  you." 

"  I  know  it."  Her  face,  which  had  been  wistful, 
changed  marvellously — her  brows  drawn  firmly  and 
her  chin  a  little  forward.  "  Oh !  of  all  the  things 
you've  ever  said,  that — that  is  the  most  caddish." 

I  endeavored  to  laugh.  "  Don't  forget  you  wear 
my  bracelet." 

"  Forget  it?  No."  Her  breast  rose  flutteringly 
and  her  voice  shook.  "  But  don't  you  forget  that 
sometimes,  even  in  Africa,  a  master  is  kind." 

She  made  me  a  bow — whether  scornful  or  plead- 
ing I  vow  I  could  not  tell — and  slipped  into  the 
house. 

She  had  called  me  a  cad,  but  if  she  thought  I 
played  the  part  with  any  satisfaction  she  knew  me  ill. 


VII 

A  DOMESTIC  DISCUSSION 

I  DRESSED  for  dinner  leisurely.  My  trunks  had 
arrived  in  the  course  of  the  day,  and  I  found  my 
things  laid  out  for  me. 

When  I  had  finished  I  contemplated  myself  in  the 
tall  pier-glass.  I  fancied  I  made  a  rather  formid- 
able figure,  which  was  precisely  what  I  wished  to 
make. 

My  eyes  are  naturally  deep-sunken,  and  years  of 
outdoor  life  had  somehow  accentuated  this  charac- 
teristic. My  mouth  was  not  encouraging  to  one 
who  knew  herself  guilty,  and  my  face,  darkly- 
tanned,  had  a  certain  immobility  of  expression. 
Altogether,  even  had  there  not  been  good  reason, 
I  did  not  wonder  that  Ellen  Sutphen  had  shrunk 
before  me  from  the  moment  of  my  re-entrance  upon 
her  life. 

I  was  still  viewing  myself  in  the  glass  when  I 
heard  a  sound  at  the  door  of  my  dressing-room.  It 
was  not  a  knock  but  a  slight  grating  noise — the 
faintest  of  faint  noises,  but  I  am  keen-eared  and 
knew  I  could  not  be  mistaken.  I  wheeled  about  and 
waited. 

The  sound  was  not  repeated,  but  as  I  stood  star- 
ing at  the  door,  the  glass  knob  turned  slowly  to  the 
reverse  position.  Someone  had  tried  to  enter  and 

57 


58  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

had  found  the  door  locked.  There  was  a  moment's 
silence,  then  a  light  footstep  went  stealing  up  the 
hall. 

In  two  strides  I  could  have  crossed  the  room, 
flung  open  the  door,  and  caught  the  would-be  in- 
truder. But  to  what  end? 

I  knew  as  surely  as  if  I  held  her,  shamed  and 
trembling,  in  my  grasp,  that  it  could  only  be  one 
of  two  persons — Ellen  or  Mrs.  Sutphen.  In  my 
present  humor  I  had  no  desire  to  precipitate  a  scene 
with  either.  It  was  my  intention  to  have  the 
approaching  dinner  go  off  smoothly.  It  would  not 
do  to  precede  it  by  a  stormy  interview  with  my 
hostesses. 

So  I  refrained  from  making  any  effort  to  seize 
the  person  who  had  stealthily  tried  my  door.  But 
the  attempt  reminded  me  that  some  precautions 
were  advisable. 

Accordingly  I  removed  my  wallet  from  the  dress- 
ing-table to  the  inside  pocket  of  my  coat.  Its 
contents  were  necessary  to  maintain  my  position  at 
"  Red  Cedars " — it  would  be  safest  about  my 
person. 

These  preparations  being  completed,  I  turned 
to  go  downstairs.  To  reach  the  door  from  the 
dressing-table  I  had  to  pass  in  front  of  the  pier- 
glass — I  made  a  mental  note  of  the  fact. 

I  turned  back  and  passing  from  the  dressing- 
room  into  the  bedroom,  lifted  a  window.  The 
lights  from  an  ell  of  the  house  shone  up  at  me. 


A  DOMESTIC  DISCUSSION  59 

Leaning  out  I  gave  a  peculiar  whistle  two  or  three 
times — then  waited. 

In  a  moment  or  two,  the  whistle  was  answered  be- 
neath my  window — a  man's  shadowy  form  appeared 
out  of  the  darkness. 

"  Can  you  hear  me?  "  I  called  in  Malayan. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Dirck  in  the  same  tongue. 

"  When  you  come  to  my  room,  after  dinner,  bring 
a  pair  of  pincers  and  a  yard  or  two  of  soft  wire. 
Keep  them  out  of  sight,  under  your  coat — under- 
stand? " 

I  did  not  wait  for  his  answer,  but  closed  the 
window  and  sought  the  drawing-room. 

It  was  in  sole  possession  of  the  head  of  the  house 
— Mrs.  Sutphen  herself.  I  had  not  seen  her  since 
late  the  night  before.  She  was  sitting  languidly 
in  an  arm-chair,  and  inclined  her  head  to  me  with 
an  attempt  at  her  usual  affectionate  manner. 

She  was  a  small,  pussy-cat  sort  of  woman,  re- 
trousse-nosed and  fair-browed.  Her  rather  near- 
sighted eyes  ordinarily  met  one  through,  their  pince- 
nez  with  a  sort  of  confiding  affection  that  had — -I 
reflected  savagely — long  deluded  her  social  world. 
Her  hair  rose  light  and  abundant  above  a  com- 
plexion infantile  in  its  soft  pink  and  whiteness. 

A  well-gowned,  pleasant-faced,  easy-mannered 
woman,  yet  when  I  had  last  seen  her,  the  night  be- 
fore, one  whose  poise  had  completely  vanished, 
whose  falsely-gentle  mask  had  been  broken  through 
at  last,  and  whose  trembling  limbs  could  hardly 


60  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

support  her  body,  shaken  with  fear  and  anger  and 
shame. 

Her  nod,  desperate  attempt  to  appear  at  ease 
as  I  knew  it  to  be,  set  my  nerves  on  edge  at  once. 
I  made  her  a  gay  bow. 

"  Good-evening.  It's  awfully  good  of  you  to 
give  this  dinner.  It's  in  my  honor,  isn't  it?  You 
oughtn't  to  have  tried  to  amuse  me  by  asking  people 
in — after  your  nasty  headache  last  night.  You 
and  Nell  are  amusement  enough  for  anyone.  I 
hope  the  head's  better."  My  tone  and  manner 
were  intensely  sympathetic. 

I  could  see  the  eyes  narrow  behind  the  pince-nez. 
The  handkerchief,  decorously  edged  with  black,  that 
she  was  holding  in  her  lap,  became  a  shapeless  ball. 
One  slippered  foot  was  projected,  withdrawn,  and 
projected  again  from  beneath  the  gray  folds  of  her 
skirt. 

"  I  hope  the  headache's  better,"  I  repeated. 

"  Craig,  you — are  execrable !  " 

"  My  dear  lady,"  I  answered  blandly,  "  I  am  ex- 
pressing my  deep  interest  in  your  health.  Is  there 
anything  in  my  respectful  solicitude  to  cause  you 
to  treat  me  so  unkindly  ?  " 

The  black-bordered  handkerchief  made  a  dab  at 
the  near-sighted  eyes  with  such  violence  that  the 
pince-nez  was  precipitated  to  the  floor.  I  recovered 
it  and  handed  it  to  her  deferentially. 

"  The  strain  of  your  household  cares  is  getting 
to  be  too  much  for  you.  I'm  afraid  you're  a  little 
nervous." 


A  DOMESTIC  DISCUSSION  61 

The  pink  in  her  cheeks  became  spots  of  angry 
crimson. 

"  How  a  man  born  a  gentleman "  she  began. 

I  interrupted.  "  For  that  matter,  how  a  woman 
born  a  lady "  My  pause  was  full  of  signifi- 
cance to  her. 

Her  foot  again  tapped  the  floor  while  I,  smiling 
politely,  awaited  her  next  remark. 

We  were  in  this  attitude  when  Ellen  entered  the 
room.  The  situation — her  mother  and  I  eyeing 
each  other  in  a  sort  of  armed  truce — evidently 
caused  her  an  unpleasant  shock.  She  halted,  glanc- 
ing from  the  tell-tale  red  in  her  mother's  cheeks  to 
my  formal  smile,  and  touched  her  hair  with  dainty 
fingers  in  order  to  hide  her  embarrassment. 

I  surveyed  her.  "  Nell,"  I  said,  "  do  you  mind 
my  saying  you  are  looking  exceedingly  charming 
to-night?" 

She  gave  me  a  little  eager  smile,  as  if  imploring 
me  not  to  jeer,  but  my  earnest  glance  reassured 
her,  and  made  her  lower  her  eyes  as  well. 

"  Would  any  woman  mind  a  man's  telling  her 
that  ?  "  she  answered. 

She  wore  a  gown  of  some  soft  stuff.  It  was 
devoid  of  all  glittering  lights — I  hate  shimmers  in 
a  woman's  frock  as  much  as  I  like  them  in  her  hair 
— but  fell  dull-black  from  throat  to  instep. 

As  she  had  threatened,  it  was  not  decolletee,  but 
the  superb  white  throat  above  the  black  yoke  gave 
promise  of  the  shoulders  beneath.  The  mass  of 


62  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

chestnut  hair  swept  smoothly  from  neck  to  crown, 
not  a  lock  astray  nor  yet  one  devoid  of  its  own 
iridescent  light. 

For  some  reason — perhaps  on  account  of  the 
kindness  of  my  greeting — the  look  of  anxiety  had  a 
little  faded  from  her  face.  There  was  even  a  faint 
trace  of  archness  in  the  turn  of  her  head  and  the 
droop  of  her  shoulders.  For  the  moment — 'for  me 
— she  was  an  exceedingly  charming  woman. 

My  eyes  lingered  on  her  hair. 

u '  This  is  the  hair  that  launched  a  thousand  ships, 
And  burnt  the  topless  towers  of  Ilium,'" 

I  paraphrased. 

"  Thank  you,  sir.  I'll  try  to  think  of  something 
nice  to  quote  about  you" 

"  A  hopeless  effort,  I'm  afraid." 

"  I  suppose  you  aren't  fishing?  " 

"  Certainly  not.  If  you  do  think  of  anything, 
be  sure  to  let  me  know." 

"  Mais  oui,  monsieur. " 

As  we  carried  on  this  decidedly  feeble  badinage, 
the  crimson  spots  faded  from  Mrs.  Sutphen's 
cheeks.  Such  conversation  was  of  a  sort  to  which 
she  had  been  accustomed — until  lately.  Possibly, 
as  she  watched  us  from  the  arm-chair,  she  was  try- 
ing to  delude  herself  into  the  belief  that  her  own 
and  her  daughter's  life  still  ran  on  normal  lines, 
that  my  presence  was  merely  a  hazy  dream  that  a 
good  dinner  would  dissipate,  or  at  most  that  I  was 


A  DOMESTIC  DISCUSSION  63 

but  a  casual  week-end  guest  instead  of  a  tyrant 
and  enemy. 

"  Won't  you  sit  down,  Nell?  "  I  asked.  "  You 
must  be  tired  after  our  tramp." 

"  Have  you  been  out  walking,  Ellen  ?  "  queried 
Mrs.  Sutphen.  "  I  hope  you  didn't  go  too  far. 
These  autumn  days  are  so  trying." 

"  It  wasn't  far."  Ellen's  reply  was  evasive.  "  I 
met  Mr.  Schuyler  and — we  came  back  together." 

"  Where  did  you  go  ?  "  said  her  mother  with 
the  dull  persistence  a  weak  nature  often  displays. 

"  Only  three  or  four  miles,  perhaps." 

"But  where?" 

"  It  was — only  to  Mary  Finney's."  She  spoke 
hesitantly,  with  a  sidelong  glance  at  me,  as  if  beg- 
ging me  to  be  silent. 

I  manifested  a  great  interest  in  a  painting  on 
the  wall  above  the  piano. 

"To  Mary  Finney's?"  repeated  Mrs.  Sutphen 
querulously.  "  That  girl !  I  wish  you  would  pay 
some  attention  to  my  wishes,  Ellen."  Doubtless  on 
account  of  our  peculiar  relations  she  seemed  to  be 
heedless  of  preserving  the  amenities  before  me. 
"  You  know  I've  told  you  again  and  again " 

Ellen  made  a  gesture.  "  Please,  mother — not 
now." 

"Why  not  now?  "  retorted  Mrs.  Sutphen,  rather 
raising  than  lowering  her  tone.  "  Craig  knows 
the  worst  about  us,  doesn't  he?  He  might  as  well 
see  our  other  family  skeletons,  and " 


64  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

"Mother!" 

"  Please  don't  interrupt  me.     I " 

It  was  useless  for  me  to  pretend  any  longer  that 
I  was  oblivious  of  the  discussion.  I  felt  a  glow 
of  anger  at  the  older  woman's  bad  taste. 

"  Mrs.  Sutphen,  I  don't  care  to  hear  anything 
that  Nell  doesn't  wish  me  to  hear." 

The  black-bordered  handkerchief  promptly  hov- 
ered over  the  pince-nez,  and  there  was  a  painful 
silence  in  the  room. 

"  Nell,"  I  said,  "  this  is  a  quaint  picture  here. 
What's  the  idea?  I  don't  mind  telling  you,"  I 
muttered  as  she  joined  me.  "  I  won't  have  anybody 
abuse  you  but  myself." 

"  Small  favors  thankfully  received,"  she  an- 
swered in  the  same  low  tone. 

We  were  standing  close  together,  in  what  must 
have  seemed  to  an  outsider  a  very  friendly  attitude, 
when  the  Savartons  and  the  Westbrooks  were  an- 
nounced together. 

The  Savartons — John  and  Augusta  and  the  old 
general — were  people  without  much  individuality. 
The  two  men,  except  for  the  general's  white  hair 
and  Civil  War  goatee,  looked  as  much  alike  as  two 
peas.  Augusta  was  a  placid  person  of  neutral 
coloring,  tastes  and  opinions. 

Norah  Westbrook  and  her  brother  interested  me 
more.  The  former  held  out  her  hand  to  me  impul- 
sively. 

"  Mr.  Schuyler !     I  knew  it  was  you.     After  I'd 


A  DOMESTIC  DISCUSSION  65 

passed  you  this  morning,  I  racked  my  brains  to 
think  who  you  were.  It  came  to  me  in  a  flash,  but 
you  were  out  of  sight  by  that  time." 

"  Very  much  offended  because  you  had  cut  me 
dead. 

"  '  Norah,  Norah,  of  gay  Glencora, 

Where  did  you  get  the  gold  in  your  hair? ' " 

She  capped  my  verse  instantly: 

" '  Faith !  it  came  from  the  White  Witch  of  Dunmora, 
The  dust  o'  the  stars  for  me  to  wear.' 

Oh,  do  you  remember  how  you  taught  me  that,  and 
the  fairy  stories  you  used  to  tell  me — and  the 
candy  you  gave  me?  Really,  the  very  last  of  my 
first  teeth  was  accounted  for  by  a  delicious  piece 
of  molasses  candy  you  gave  me  on  my  birthday. 
This  is  my  brother,  Aleck — you  remember  him, 
don't  you?" 

"  Of  course."  I  shook  hands  with  the  young 
fellow  heartily. 

Like  his  sister  he  was  straight  and  slim,  and  his 
eyes  were  blue.  But  where  Norah's  eyes  were 
thoughtful,  his  sparkled  on  slight  provocation.  His 
cheekbones  were  rather  high,  and  the  skin  was  a 
little  too  tightly  drawn  along  the  line  of  the  jaw. 
The  face  of  an  enthusiast,  I  fancied, — yet  certainly 
a  very  manly  one. 

"  You  were  a   schoolboy  when  I  saw  you  last, 
Aleck,"  I  said.     "  I  suppose  you're  about  finishing 
college  now." 
5 


66  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

"  Out  of  Princeton  last  year,"  he  returned. 

"  Are  you  building  a  bonfire  under  the  world  now, 
or  is  it  plain  loaf?  You'd  better  travel  than  do 
that." 

"  I'd  like  to  be  an  explorer  like  you,  Schuyler — 
that  would  be  living.  But  Norah  wants  me  to  stick 
to  her  a  year  or  two  yet — there  are  only  aunt  and 
ourselves,  you  know."  His  eyes  wandered  to  Ellen 
Sutphen. 

"  Quite  right,  of  course,"  I  declared  warmly. 
"  If  there  were  enough  Norahs  to  go  'round,  there 
wouldn't  be  any  explorers." 

"  Ha,  ha !  very  good,"  said  John  Savarton. 

"  Awfully,"  agreed  Augusta,  as  she  would  have 
agreed  if  he  had  said  "  very  bad." 

Just  then  the  Willy  Archers  arrived,  barely  in 
time  to  escape  being  late.  Dot  Archer,  with  Willy 
in  tow,  sailed  in  as  if  she  were  a  majestic  dowager 
instead  of  a  decidedly  diminutive  person  of  twenty- 
two  or  three. 

"  I'm  here,"  she  cried,  snapping  her  black  eyes 
about  on  every  man  present.  "  I'm  not  late.  Don't 
say  I  am  or  I  shall  die  of  mortification.  I  told 
Willy  to  hurry  but  he — Craig  Schuyler !  How  are 
you?  So  you've  really  condescended  to  return  to 
civilization  at  last."  She  menaced  me  with  a  tiny 
finger.  "  O-oh,  ho !  We  know  why  you  stayed 
so  long.  I've  heard — the  tales  about  your  doings 
in  the  jungles  of — of — where  was  it,  Willy?  " 

"  The     tropical     fastnesses     of     Kamschatka," 


A  DOMESTIC  DISCUSSION  67 

grinned  her  husband,  who  thought  everything  his 
wife  did  delightful. 

"  Of  course — in  Kamschatka.  Wicked,  wicked 
man!  Ellen,  we  aren't  late,  are  we,  dear?  " 

"  No — just  in  time,"  smiled  Ellen,  motioning 
toward  the  door.  "  There's  Jordan  now." 

"  Aleck  will  take  you  in,  Dot,"  said  Mrs.  Sut- 
phen.  "  And  Willy  will  you  look  after  Augusta  ? 
Norah  and  Mr.  Savarton,  and  Craig  and  Ellen. 
General,  you  and  I." 

As  Ellen  and  I  led  the  way  to  the  dining-room, 
I  repeated  the  verse  Norah  Westbrook  and  I  had 
quoted: 

" '  Norah,  Norah  of  gay  Glencora, 
Where  did  you  get  the  gold  in  your  hair? ' 
'  Faith  it  came  from  the  White  Witch  of  Dunmora, 
The  dust  o'  the  stars  for  me  to  wear.' 

Rather  pretty,  isn't  it?  "  I  said. 


VIII 

A  DINNER  ENFORCED 

IT  had  been  upwards  of  four  years  since  I  had 
sat  down  to  dinner  at  "  Red  Cedars  " — it  seemed  to 
be  a  score.  I  recalled  what  my  feelings  had  been 
the  last  time  I  had  sat  there,  and  did  not  find  the 
recollection  pleasant. 

I  glanced  at  Ellen.  She,  too,  was  thinking  of 
that  unhappy  time,  for  she  avoided  my  eyes,  and 
the  knuckles  of  her  hands,  clasped  on  the  table's 
edge,  showed  white. 

I  felt  a  sort  of  contemptuous  pity  for  the  out- 
raged and  overwhelmed  young  man  who,  four  years 
before,  had  found  himself  so  impotent  before  these 
women.  Now  it  was  they — Mrs.  Sutphen  and  Ellen 
— who  were  helpless  before  me — me,  grown  im- 
measurably in  coolness,  and  mercilessly  hardened 
by  experience. 

In  my  grim  enjoyment  of  the  change  in  our 
situations,  I  could  almost  have  called  aloud :  "  7 
am  master  here!  I  can  in  one  instant  send  this 
easy  hostess,  and  this  girl,  for  all  her  apparent 
hauteur,  weeping  to  their  knees  before  me ! "  I 
found  a  certain  dubious  pleasure  in  the  sight  of 
Ellen's  straining  knuckles  and  her  mother's  fre- 
quent anxious  glances  in  my  direction. 

While  Dot  Archer  rattled  on,  and  General  Savar- 


A  DINNER  ENFORCED  69 

ton  dealt  in  solemn  platitudes  with  Mrs.  Sutphen, 
I  stared  rather  vaguely  down  the  table.  My  glance 
rested  on  Aleck  Westbrook — his  earnest  face  at- 
tracted me. 

I  became  aware  that  he  was  gazing  in  our  direc- 
tion— at  Ellen.  His  eyes  studied  her  face,  lowered 
toward  her  plate,  with  a  strange  light  in  their 
eager  depths.  His  mouth  assumed  a  peculiar  ex- 
pression, absorbed,  tender,  protecting.  I  started, 
at  least  mentally.  I  had  seen  such  a  look  in  other 
eyes — in  another  land. 

"  Good  Heavens !  the  boy's  really  in  love  with 
her,"  I  reflected.  "  This  is  a  pretty  go !  How  far 
has  it  gone — that's  the  question  ?  " 

Too  far  I  was  afraid — far  enough  to  work  woe 
for  one  of  them  at  any  rate.  I  studied  him  again — 
that  mouth  and  eye  were  not  of  a  spirit  to  take 
things  lightly. 

Had  Ellen  read  his  soul  as  easily  as  I?  One 
might  trust  a  woman  for  that !  Was  she  leading  him 
on  to  dizzy  heights  whence  she  might  cast  him  down 
at  last  as  she  had  cast  another?  For  that  matter, 
it  was  not  unlikely  that  he  had  already  declared  his 
passion  for  her.  On  the  surface  a  right  and 
proper  procedure ! — they  were  about  of  the  same  age 
— an  honorable  passion  expressed  for  an  honorable 
woman.  I  laughed  to  myself — painfully  enough. 

Young  Westbrook's  eye  was  fixed  upon  me  with 
a  sudden  challenge.  He  had  caught  my  sarcastic 
smile  and,  so  it  seemed,  divined  my  sneering 


70  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

thought.  No  doubt  the  lad  was  young  and  quix- 
otic enough,  perhaps  also  enough  in  love,  to  resent 
any  slight  toward  his  chosen  lady,  even  if  the  slight 
were  only  a  twitch  of  the  lips. 

I  was  ready  to  like  the  boy,  so  I  bent  gallantly 
over  Ellen. 

"  You've  an  admirer,  I  see." 

She  looked  up  quickly.  "  Oh,  scores  of  them. 
Did  you  ever  doubt  it?  " 

"  But  I  hope  you  don't  count  everything  fish 
that  comes  to  your  net.  That  would  be  too  cruel." 

"  That  sounds  like  another  parable — you'll  have 
to  interpret  it  yourself." 

"  Young  Westbrook  there !  He's  absolutely 
scowling  at  me — because  I've  had  the  honor  to  take 
you  in,  perhaps." 

"  How  absurd ! "  She  glanced  down  the  table, 
and,  meeting  Aleck's  eye,  smiled  frankly.  His  face 
lightened  and  he  returned  her  an  eager  nod. 

"  We  were  talking  about  you,  Aleck,"  I  said. 
"  Which  ear  is  burning?  " 

"  Whichever  means  nice  things,  of  course."  His 
suspicion  of  me  vanished  on  the  instant. 

"  No  one  ever  can  remember  which  ear  burns  for 
scandal,"  cried  Dot  Archer,  "  or  which  for  praise. 
Isn't  it  provoking!  I  really  do  believe  in  signs. 
I'm  awfully  interested  in  all — all  this — this  New 
Thought,  you  know.  I  want  to  belong  to  the 
Society  for  Some-kind  of  Research.  You  know 
what  kind  of  Research? — of " 


A  DINNER  ENFORCED  71 

"  Orthopedic,"  suggested  Willy  gravely. 

"  Oh,  yes,  of  Orthopedic  Research,  but  you  won't 
let  me.  Willy  says  I'd  be  consulting  mediums  and 
spiritualistic  old  women,  and — and  Circassian 
princesses  and  things,  until  he'd  be  driven  crazy. 
But  it  is  annoying  not  to  remember  which  ear  ought 
to  burn,  isn't  it?  Norah,  which  is  it? — the  right 
or  the  left?" 

"  I  suppose  you  want  me  to  say  the  right  ear 
always  burns,"  said  Norah.  "  But  I  scorn  such  a 
pun.  One  of  my  Irish  forebears  might  have  said: 
'Erin  go  Bragh!'" 

"  Awful,"  I  groaned.  "  The  only  proper  answer 
to  that  is :  « 'Ear !  'Ear ! '  " 

"  Yes,  or  '  'Ere  endeth  the  first  lesson,'"  quoth  old 
General  Savarton,  rising  unexpectedly  to  the  occa- 
sion. 

"  Schuyler,"  said  John  Savarton,  "  apropos  of 
psychic  research,  I  fancy  you  must  have  seen  some 
queer  things  in  the  East,  haven't  you?  " 

"  I  don't  recall  anything  very  mysterious.  Most 
of  the  mystic  Oriental  is  all  nonsense,  you  know. 
What  I  mean  is  that  the  esoteric  East  is  talked 
about  mainly  by  the  type  of  mind  that  would  find 
just  as  much  mystery  on  Fifth  Avenue  or  the  Bow- 
ery, if  it  ever  bothered  to  look  at  it.  It's  the 
Cook's  tourist  who  has  put  an  impenetrable  haze 
over  half  the  world.  Your  savant  knows  that  hu- 
man nature  is  about  the  same  in  one  place  as  in 
another " 


72  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

"  Meaning,  of  course "  began  Ellen  slyly. 

"That  did  sound  rather  inflated,  didn't  it?"  I 
laughed.  "  No,  /  don't  pretend  to  understand  the 
workings  of  the  East  Indian  mind,  but  I  could  if  I 
could  learn  to  think  primitively  enough — if  you 
see  what  I  mean." 

"  You  mean  as  a  savage  thinks  ?  "  asked  Norah 
Westbrook.  "  Close  to  nature — raw,  as  it  were?  " 

"  Precisely.  One  must  think  raw — bare — down  to 
the  bone  of  things,  to  get  a  savage's  point  of  view." 

"  Sounds  a  bit  barbaric,"  commented  Willy 
Archer.  "  Sort  of  cannibalistic.  No  doubt  savage 
life  is  rather — bare." 

"  Willy!  "  cried  Dot. 

"  Craig,  of  course,  you're  too  modest — you're 
really  quite  able  to  think — ah — raw,"  said  Mrs. 
Sutphen  sweetly.  "  I'm  sure  you're  a  real  bar- 
barian, when  you  like." 

I  smiled  at  the  pince-nez.  "  I'm  learning  at  any 
rate.  It's  really  very  useful  to  be  a  savage — some- 
times. It  helps  one  lift  the  mask  most  people  wear, 
and  see  the  secrets  underneath." 

"  That  sounds  rather — rather  scandalous,"  said 
Dot  Archer.  "  Like  the  introduction  to  one  of 
those  delightfully  wicked  Memoirs  everybody  used 
to  write  in  the  time  of  Napoleon  or  Louis  Quatorze 
or  somebody." 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  Norah.  "  I  see  what  you 
mean,  Mr.  Schuyler.  You  want  the  truth  of  life 
at  all  hazards." 


A  DINNER  ENFORCED  73 

I  regarded  her  appreciatively.  "  I  do — in 
theory,  at  any  rate.  When  it  comes  to  practice, 
I'm  willing  to  temper  the  wind  to  the  shorn  lamb, 
for  a  while,  at  least."  My  glance  shifted  to  Ellen 
Sutphen. 

She  met  it  steadily.  "  Aren't  you  getting  a 
little  mixed  in  your  metaphors  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  I  am." 

"We're  getting  off  the  subject,  aren't  we?" 
said  Augusta  Savarton.  "  Didn't  you  ever  run 
across  any  mystery  in — where  was  it? — Borneo?  " 

"  Sumatra.  Yes,  but  the  mystery  was  usually 
connected  with  the  snake-charmer's  basket  or  the 
conjurer's  bag.  I've  found  more  strange  happen- 
ings right  here  in  America  than  I  ever  did  east  of 
Suez." 

"  Oh,  don't  you  love  Kipling?  "  cried  Dot.  "  It 
must  be  awfully  interesting  to  live  where  there 
*  aren't  no  Ten  Commandments.'  " 

Her  husband  intervened.  "  Ah,  ha !  Schuyler. 
Don't  you  see  what  Dot's  after?  She  fishing  for 
a  chronique  scandaleuse.  You'd  better  watch  out, 
or  she'll  have  you  confessing  all  about  that  '  neater, 
sweeter  maiden,  in  a  cleaner,  greener  land,'  before 
you  know  it." 

During  the  laughter  Norah  Westbrook  spoke  to 
me  in  an  undertone. 

"  That's  a  rather  horrid  remark  of  Willy 
Archer's.  What  does  he  mean  by  it  ?  " 

"  I  fancy  he's  been  reading  some  newspaper  gos- 


74  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

sip,"  I  returned.  "  A  man  who's  lived  among 
savages  much  can't  escape  slander.  They  told  all 
sorts  of  tales  about  Stanley  in  Africa,  you  know. 
Our  glorious  press  has  given  Schuyler  in  Sumatra  a 
few  coats  of  lurid  paint,  too." 

"  Why  should  they  tell — tales  about  some  men 
and  not  about  others?  "  She  crumbled  a  bit  of 
bread  absently.  "  One  couldn't  imagine  any  coats 
of  paint  on  John  Savarton  there."  Her  blue  eyes 
dwelt  on  me.  "  Perhaps  some  men  give  people 
cause  for — tales." 

"  Is  that  a  cruel  dig  at  me?  " 

"  I  saw  an  interesting-looking  man  in  the  drive- 
way, when  we  came  in,"  she  said,  evading  my  ques- 
tion. "  Who  was  that,  Ellen  ?  He  stared  at  me 
very  hard." 

"  Perhaps  it  was  Craig's  chauffeur." 

"  Yes,  probably  it  was  my  man,  DuBois." 

"  Really  ?  I  thought  I  must  have  seen — he  didn't 
appear  to  be " 

"  He's  quite  an  unusual  sort.  He's  saved  my 
life  several  times.  But  the  best  thing  I  ever  saw 

him  do "  I  stopped.  "  I  beg  your  pardon. 

Of  course,  the  deeds  of  my  mechanic  don't  interest 
you." 

"  Oh,  but  they  do,"  she  cried  eagerly.  "  I  was 

very  much  impressed  by — by "  The  faint 

color  crept  into  her  cheek. 

"  By  his  stare,  eh  ?  "  chuckled  Archer.  "  Fine 
blue  eyes  the  fellow  has,  Norah — I  noticed  'em 


A  DINNER  ENFORCED  75 

myself.  Go  ahead,  Schuyler,  we  all  want  to  hear 
the  story — if  it's  exciting." 

"  It  isn't." 

But  I  had  to  yield  to  the  general  demand. 

"  Well,  he  happened  to  get  in  a  railway  train 
full  of  miserable  emigrants — on  their  way  to 
America,  you  know — this  was  in  Austria.  The  emi- 
grants were  some  of  those  hideous  South  European 
hordes  that  will  be  the  ruin  of  this  land  of  the 
free  and  home  of  the  brave,  if  we  aren't  careful. 
There  were  half-drunken  men,  and  squalling  babies, 
and  dirty,  ailing  women. 

"  The  windows  in  the  carriages  were  shut,  of 
course,  although  it  was  a  hot  summer  day.  Did 
you  ever  see  a  guard  who  would  open  a  carriage 
window  of  his  own  accord?  The  fellow  on  this  line 
wouldn't  do  it  even  when  he  was  asked,  though,  it 
was  clear  the  babies  were  stifling  for  want  of  air. 
DuBois  had  to  get  hold  of  the  ruffian,  and  threaten 
to  report  him  to  the  Conductor-General  before  the 
windows  were  opened. 

"  Of  course,  over  there,  there  wasn't  any  drink- 
ing-water, much  less  any  ice.  DuBois  got  some 
pails  of  water  at  a  town  they  passed  through  and 
by  a  miracle  found  some  ice.  Then  he  carried  a 
drink  to  all  the  babies,  and  to  all  the  mothers  too." 

"  Is  this  a  nursery  tale?  "  queried  Archer  sar- 
castically. 

Norah  gave  him  an  indignant  glance.  I  went 
on. 


76  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

"  Then  he  took  to  amusing  the  children,  and  chat- 
ting with  the  mothers  to  draw  their  minds  off  their 
miseries.  When  a  lot  of  the  men  got  to  quarrelling 
among  themselves,  he  took  their  liquor  away  from 
them — and  it  needed  a  cool  hand  to  do  that. 

"  When  they  would  come  to  a  station  where  they 
were  to  stop  a  few  minutes,  he  would  take  a  baby 
in  his  arms  and  walk  up  and  down  the  platform  in 
the  shade  of  the  carriages — to  give  the  child  a 
chance  to  breathe,  you  know.  He  must  have  had 
half  the  children  in-  the  train  in  his  arms  at  differ- 
ent times  before  the  day  was  over." 

"  Did  he  tell  you  all  this  himself?  "  interpolated 
the  scornful  Archer. 

"  No,  he  didn't.  I  heard  it  from  one  of  the 
women  a  year  or  two  later.  There  was  one  miser- 
able Bohemian  six-months'-old  who  was  really  sick. 
He  held  her  for  a  couple  of  hours,  fanning  her 
with  his  hat  and  keeping  the  little  face  cool  by 
wiping  it  with  his  damp  handkerchief.  Then  when 
the  child  had  fallen  asleep,  he  sat  and  fanned  the 
tired  mother  for  another  hour. 

"  By  and  by,  he  got  out  a  guitar  he  had  with 
him,  and  perched  himself  up  on  the  back  of  a  seat, 
and  sang  some  little  quiet  German  songs — softly 
so  as  not  to  wake  the  babies — those  German  songs 
that  make  you  weepy  and  make  you  brave  at  the 
same  time. 

"  Well,  I  know  you  girls  will  understand,  even  if 
Archer  there  doesn't.  It  was  the  Bohemian  woman 


A  DINNER  ENFORCED  77 

who  told  me  about  it  afterward.  She  said  she  would 
always  believe  he  was  an  angel  sent  from  Heaven, 
and  that  she  prayed  for  him  every  night."  I 
glanced  about  the  table.  "  Now,  really,  I  think 
that's  better  than  many  a  more  spectacular  per- 
formance." 

Norah's  voice  was  very  soft.  "  So  do  I — a  thou- 
sand times." 

I  turned  to  Ellen  Sutphen.  I  was  startled  by 
the  paleness  of  her  cheeks  and  by  the  dark  circles 
under  her  eyes. 

"  Are  you  very  tired?  " 

"  No — yes— I  think  I  am." 

I  leaned  toward  her,  pretending  to  select  the  fork 
for  the  next  course. 

"  Nell,  I  don't  want  to  make  you  ill.  I'm  sorry 
now  I  insisted  upon  this  dinner." 

"  I'll  pull  through  all  right." 

"  I'm  sorry,  though.  It  was  downright  brutal 
of  me." 

She  gave  me  her  ghost  of  a  smile.  Her  eyes 
lifted  to  mine  were  a  misty  gray. 

"  Have  you  only  just  recognized  one  of  your 
most  prominent  characteristics?  I've  known  it  for 
some  time." 

"  Brutality,  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Yes.  You've  given  it  vigorous  exercise  the 
last  few  days." 

"  The  last  few  days  ?     I  only  came  last  night." 

"  It   seems   a  month — to  me.     You  know  what 


78  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

the  little  darky  said :  '  If  you  goes  by  what  mammy 
says  I'm  on'y  six,  but  if  you  goes  by  the  troubles 
I  been  in  I'm  most  a  hundred.' '  She  gazed  up 
at  me  mockingly.  "  I  heard  you  say  just  now  that 
a  man  who  has  lived  among  savages  is  bound  to  be 
slandered.  Does  Schuyler  certify  that  Schuyler 
the  explorer  is  immaculate !  " 

"  Oh,  no.  He  isn't  as  black  as  he's  been  painted, 
that's  all." 

"In  spite  of  his  seven  wives?" 

"Ah,  ha!  You've  heard  that  dreadful  story? 
Theresa's  consternation  was  delightful." 

"  She  was  still  wild-eyed  when  she  came  to  me 
with  it." 

"  You'd  hardly  expected  to  hear  anything  so  bad 
as  that,  I  fancy." 

"  Hardly  expected?  "  She  spoke  with  suppressed 
indignation.  "  You  don't  mean  that  you  think  I 
set  her  to  find " 

Augusta  Savarton  leaned  across  the  table  and 
stared  at  Ellen's  wrist. 

"  Nell,  where  did  you  get  that  pretty  bracelet  ? 
I  don't  think  I  ever  noticed  it  before.  What  is  it — • 
the  metal?  Pull  up  your  sleeve  a  little,  dear." 

Ellen  gave  me  a  covert  glance.  With  her  right 
hand  she  involuntarily  twitched  down  the  sleeve 
of  the  left.  A  motion  that  was  checked  before  it 
was  perceptible  to  anyone  but  me. 

"  It's  just  an  odd  bit,"  she  explained. 

But  by  this   time  Dot  Archer  was   interested. 


A  DINNER  ENFORCED  79 

"  Do  pull  up  your  sleeve,  Nell.     It's  awfully  cute." 

It  was  impossible  to  refuse.  She  turned  back 
the  sleeve,  and  the  reddish  band  gleamed  against 
her  white  wrist.  The  face  of  the  Nubian  looked  up 
from  a  lock  of  almost  formidable  proportions. 

"  How  perfectly  fascinating !  "  exclaimed  Dot. 
"  Oh,  what  a  queer  clasp  !  And  what  a  lovely  shade 
of  red !  Is  it  some  new  kind  of  gold,  Nell?  Willy, 
you  must  get  me  one  just  like  it.  Tiffany's.  I  sup- 
pose, Nell,  of  course." 

"Hardly  Tiffany's,"  I  remarked.  "The  king 
of  Uganda  is  barbarian  enough  never  to  have 
heard  of  New  York  even." 

"The  king  of "  began  Dot.     "  O-o-h,  it's 

something  you  brought  her.  Isn't  it  lovely  to  be 
an  explorer  and  bring  home  things  like  that ! 
Willy,  I  wish  you  were  an  explorer." 

Mrs.  Sutphen  settled  her  pince-nez  and  peered 
at  Ellen. 

"  Take  it  off  will  you,  Ellen,  and  let  me  see  it. 
I  can't  make  it  out  from  here." 

"  It  isn't  worth  while,  mother,"  protested  Ellen. 
"  After  dinner,  if  you  like." 

But  Mrs.  Sutphen  was  not  one  to  be  thwarted 
in  her  least  desire — if  she  could  prevent  it. 

"  But  I  want  to  see  it.  Do  slip  it  off,  and  let 
Norah  pass  it  up  to  me." 

"  I  can't  take  it  off  just  now."  Ellen's  reply 
was  rather  weak.  "  I've — mislaid  the  key  somehow. 
Jt  locks,  you  know." 


80  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

All  eyes  were  bent  upon  her,  then  from  her  to  me. 
For  a  barely  perceptible  instant,  a  conscious  silence 
fell  on  the  circle — one  doesn't  mislay  the  key  of  a 
bracelet.  Norah  Westbrook  came  to  the  rescue, 
too  clever  to  change  the  subject. 

"  Those  African  jewels  are  puzzling.  Augusta 
don't  you  remember  that  Egyptian  scarab  Evelyn 
Fleming  had  made  into  a  brooch?  It  never  worked 
properly.  Mr.  Schuyler,  isn't  there  a  story  about 
that  bracelet?  How  did  you  get  hold  of  it.  Now, 
don't  tell  us  you  bought  it  at  a  bazaar." 

"  No,  I  didn't.  It's  a  captive  to  my  bow  and 
spear.  It  took  some  violence  to  get  that  piece  of 
native  work." 

"Fighting?"  General  Savarton's  professional 
interest  was  aroused. 

"  Well,  sir,  you  Loyal  Legion  men  wouldn't  have 
called  it  even  a  skirmish,  but  at  the  time  we  thought 
it  was  rather  lively." 

"  Begin  at  the  beginning,"  commanded  Archer. 
"  Don't  shy,  Schuyler.  Let's  have  the  whole  of  it." 

"  It  doesn't  amount  to  much.  Mohammed  Akbar 
Bey  of  the  Upper  Nile  Egyptian  Force,  with  a 
battalion  of  fellaheen  soldiers,  waylaid  a  slave  cara- 
van. My  man,  Dirck  DuBois,  and  I  went  along  as 
volunteers.  It  was  all  over  in  ten  minutes, 
though  a  native  tribe  took  a  hand  in  the  game 
against  us,  and  made  things  warm.  That  bracelet 
was  part  of  the  loot." 

"Did  it  belong  to  a  beautiful  Arab  princess?" 


A  DINNER  ENFORCED  81 

asked  Dot.  "  And  when  you  bore  her  away  to  your 
tent  in  the  palm-trees,  did  she  look  at  you  with 
melting  almond  eyes  and  velvety — velvety — is  it 
velvet  lips  or  cheeks  they  always  have  ?  " 

"  I'm  sure  I  don't  know.  But  it  wasn't  an  Arab 
princess  who  was  wearing  the  thing.  It  was  a 
Uganda  slave.  As  I  remember  her  she  looked  about 
like  the  ogress  in  Grimm's  Fairy  Tales." 

"  How  do  you  suppose  the  slave-dealers  came 
to  trust  a  slave  with  a  gold  bracelet?  "  asked  John 
Savarton  in  his  ponderous  manner.  "  You  said  it 
was  native  gold,  didn't  you?" 

"  Perhaps  she  was  somebody's  favorite,"  I 
evaded.  "  Their  tastes  are  different  from  ours, 
you  know.  General,  it  would  have  made  you  feel 
at  home  to  see  how  those  misguided  barbarians — 
spearmen,  you  know — tried  to  rush  our  breech- 
loaders. It  was  a  sort  of  thumbnail  sketch  of 
Pickett's  charge  at  Gettysburg.  By  the  way,  sir, 
who  was  responsible  for  that  assault  ?  Longstreet  or 
Lee?" 

"  Lee,  undoubtedly,"  said  the  General.  "  He 
was  the  commanding  general,  present  in  person 
on  the  battlefield.  To  say  he  didn't  order  the 
charge  is  simply  ridiculous  to  any  unprejudiced 
military  man.  The  greatest  Lee  worshipper  never 
dared  to  raise  the  question  until  Lee  himself  was 
dead." 

I  had  steered  the  conversation  away  from  the 
dangerous  subject  of  the  bracelet,  yet  not  without 


82  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

ostentatious  effort.  Ellen's  downcast  eyes,  her  red- 
dening cheeks  and  conscious  air,  had  had  all  the 
effect  I  had  hoped  for.  It  was  strange,  indeed, 
if  the  entire  dinner-circle  were  not  half-convinced 
that  there  was  something  of  a  romantic  nature 
between  Ellen  and  me. 

Between  courses  I  glanced  covertly  at  Aleck 
Westbrook.  His  face  was  white,  and  his  eyes  had 
a  puzzled  look  when  they  fell  on  Ellen,  but  the  lad 
was  game.  If  he  feared  I  was  ahead  of  him,  his 
frequent  laughter  and  animated  talk  did  not  betray 
him  to  anyone  but  me,  and  possibly  to  Ellen. 

In  a  little  while  he  addressed  me  directly.  "  Mr. 
Schuyler,  are  you  too  much  of  a  big  game  hunter 
to  care  for  a  little  home  sport  ?  " 

"  I'd  like  nothing  better.    What  sort?  " 

"  What  do  you  say  to  a  run  with  my  blood- 
hound to-morrow?" 

"  That  sounds  like  strenuous  enough'  sport  for 
anybody.  Bloodhounds?  Are  the  days  of  '  Uncle 
Tom's  Cabin  '  back  again  ?  " 

"  I've  got  a  Cuban,"  he  explained,  "  a  real 
beauty.  He's  as  gentle  as  a  kitten.  I'm  training 
him  to  track,  you  know.  I  get  someone  to  make  a 
trail,  then  I  run  him  down  with  the  hound.  It's 
quite  like  the  real  thing." 

"  Oh,  yes,  awfully  good  sport,"  said  Archer. 
"  Dot  and  I  were  the  unhappy  fugitives  one  day 
last  week.  But  Dot  can't  run — the  dog  drove  us 
to  bay  in  half  a  mile." 


A  DINNER  ENFORCED  83 

"  It  wasn't  my  fault  at  all,"  protested  Dot. 
"  Willy  would  sit  on  a  fence  to  smoke  a  cigarette. 
Of  course,  they  caught  us." 

"  It  sounds  interesting,"  I  said.  "  Ellen,  what 
do  you  say?  Will  you  play  Eliza  to  my  Uncle 
Tom,  and  let  Aleck  be  Simon  Legree?  " 

"  A  runaway  slave  ?  "  Her  words  came  slowly. 
"  If  you  think  I  can  run  well  enough.  I  hope  I 
won't  quite  disgrace  you — I've  been  out  with  Aleck 
two  or  three  times." 

"  Will  nine  o'clock  be  too  early  ?"  asked  Aleck. 

"  Not  for  me."  Her  eyes  met  mine  an  instant. 
"  I'll  be  awake  early,  I  fancy." 

"Why,  Ellen?"  said  Norah,  "Aren't  you 
sleeping  well,  dear?  " 

"  Not  very.  Mother  and  I — neither  of  us  sleeps 
well  lately." 

Norah  nodded  sympathetically.  "  Of  course — 
I'd  forgotten.  You've  had  a  good  deal  to  worry 
you,  haven't  you  ?  " 

I  wondered  what  she  was  talking  about.  Per- 
haps she  was  alluding  to  Ellen's  affair  with  Carlos 
Beauchamp.  I  wondered  if  he  were  really  serious 
in  his  attentions — what  was  far  more  important,  if 
she  received  them  seriously. 

Then  I  remembered  something  else — for  one 
whole  hour  I  had  almost  forgotten  it !  Who  the 
devil  was  the  man  I  had  surprised  with  Ellen  in 
Mary  Finney's  c«ttage? 


IX 

A  SHARPENED  SPOON 

THE  ladies  rose  at  Mrs.  Sutphen's  signal,  and 
left  us  to  our  liqueurs  and  cigars. 

Willy  Archer  loosened  a  button  of  his  waistcoat, 
and  crossed  his  legs  with  what  courtesy  might  have 
called  a  sigh. 

"  Now,  we  can  take  it  easy.  If  it  weren't  for 
the  girls,  we'd  be  brutes,  I  dare  say ;  but  it's  mighty 
comfortable  with  just  ourselves  sometimes.  Eh, 
John?" 

"  Schuyler  can  tell  us  about  that,"  rejoined  the 
younger  Savarton.  "  What  do  you  say,  Schuyler 
— would  you  prefer  to  be  back  among  your 
savages?  " 

"  No,  thank  you.  I'm  very  well  content.  Be- 
sides, they  aren't  my  savages,  you  know." 

Archer  grinned.  "  Oh,  come.  One  or  two  be- 
longed to  you,  I  fancy.  How  about  the  Malayan 
beauties?  You've  *  taken  your  fun  where  you 
found  it,  you've  rogued  and  you've  ranged  in  your 
time,'  haven't  you  ?  " 

"  One  doesn't  kiss  and  tell,  you  know — not  even 
among  savages." 

"  Oh,  I  beg  your  pardon — of  course  not." 

"  The  Malay  fighting  man's  weapon  is  a  kris, 
isn't  it  ?  "  asked  the  General. 

84 


A  SHARPENED  SPOON  85 

"  Yes,  that  or  a  heavy,  sabre-shaped  knife  they 
call  a  barong.  I've  seen  some  frightful  work  done 
with  that." 

"For  instance?  " 

"  For  instance,  a  head  and  shoulders  cut  off  at 
a  single  blow.  That  was  for  roguing  and  ranging, 
Archer." 

"  Well,  somebody  had  to  pay,  I  suppose." 

"  Somebody  always  has  to  pay,"  said  Aleck  West- 
brook.  "  It's  generally  the  woman,  though." 

"  She  paid,  too,  in  this  case.  A  woman  more 
or  less  doesn't  count  out  there." 

He  regarded  me  steadily.  "  Do  you  find  it  hard 
to  adjust  your  point  of  view  again — to  the  fact 
that  a  woman  does  count  back  here?  " 

My  glance  swept  over  him.  "  A  worthy  woman 
counts.  The  other  kind  doesn't,  not  even  in 
America." 

"What's  all  that?"  cried  Archer.  "That 
sounds  like  an  extract  from  one  of  Henry  James' 
damnable  stories — one  of  those  things  you  think 
might  make  sense,  only  it  never  can.  Come,  Schuy- 
ler,  give  us  an  Arabian  Nights'  Adventure — no,  by 
George !  a  Sumatran  Nights'  Adventure." 

"  I  don't  know  any." 

"  Oh,  well,  if  you  won't,  I'm  going  into  the  draw- 
ing-room." 

"  Let's  all  go,"  I  suggested. 

I  was  about  to  follow  the  Savartons  and  Archer 
when  young  Westbrook  stopped  me. 


86  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

"  Will  you  wait  a  minute,  Mr.  Schuyler?  I  want 
to  ask  you  something." 

I  glanced  at  him.  His  face  was  pale,  his  mouth 
closed  firmly,  and  his  eyes  had  again  their  look  of 
challenge. 

"  Certainly."  I  sank  back  in  my  chair.  "  Any- 
thing you  like,  Aleck." 

He  did  not  take  a  seat,  but  planted  himself 
squarely  in  front  of  me.  My  wilderness  training 
had  made  me  alert  to  the  possibilities  of  a  situation. 
The  latent  fire  in  the  boy's  eye  was  apparent  enough 
to  me — I  saw  that  he  stood  within  easy  striking  dis- 
tance of  my  chin. 

Although  eyeing  me  steadily,  he  seemed  to  find 
it  difficult  to  speak.  Once  or  twice  he  swallowed 
painfully. 

"  Anything  in  particular,  Aleck  ?  I  don't  sup- 
pose you  left  any  debts  behind  you  at  Princeton, 
did  you? — if  you  did,  I'll  be  very  glad  to " 

"  It  ifcn't  anything  of  that  sort." 

"  You  don't  want  to  hear  a  Sumatran  Nights' 
Adventure." 

"  Adventure !  "  His  voice  had  a  sudden  harsh- 
ness. "  No,  I  don't  want  to  hear  any  of  your  vile 
adventures." 

"  Hold  on !  "  I  interrupted  gravely.  "  Are  you 
saying  what  you  mean  ?  " 

"  I  beg  your  pardon.  I  didn't  mean  that,  of 
course.  I  beg  your  pardon,  Schuyler." 

"  It's  all  right,  then.  You  were  about  to 
say " 


A  SHARPENED  SPOON  87 

"  Mr.  Schuyler,  to-night — just  a  little  while  ago 
— you  and  Miss  Sutphen "  He  paused  a  mo- 
ment, then  went  on  more  evenly.  "  I  don't  under- 
stand your  attitude  toward  her — I  don't  like  it. 
Why  should  you  act  as  you  do  toward  Miss  Sut- 
phen? " 

"  You'll  have  to  be  more  explicit,  Aleck,  Have 
I  acted  toward  Miss  Sutphen?  " 

His  face  reddened.  "  I  mean  you  talk  to  her  and 
look  at  her  as  if — as  if  you  didn't  respect  her. 
A  while  ago — at  dinner — you  were  positively  sneer- 
ing at  her." 

"  Didn't  you  imagine  it  ?  " 

"  You  looked  it.  And  then,  just  now,  what  did 
you  mean  by  that  talk  about  a  '  worthy  woman  '  ? 
I  tell  you,  Schuyler,  I  don't  like  it." 

"  I  believe  you  noticed  that  she  was  wearing  a 
bracelet  I'd  given  her." 

He  stared — then  his  face  flushed  hotly.  "  Are 
you  engaged  to  Ellen  ?  " 

Then  I  did  a  foolish  thing.  I  had  meant  to 
create  in  the  minds  of  the  dinner  guests  the  very 
impression  that  Aleck's  question  proved  I  had 
created,  yet  when  he  put  the  question  so  rawly,  it 
stirred  my  sense  of  the  ridiculous.  The  bitter 
humor  of  it  lay  not  in  the  lad's  eager,  defiant  de- 
mand, but  in  my  knowledge  of  Ellen's  real  char- 
acter and  of  the  tragic  situation  of  the  household. 

I  burst  out  laughing.  Before  I  could  wink  he 
struck  me  across  the  mouth  with  his  open  hand. 


88  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

"  Sneer,  will  you !  " 

I  sprang  to  my  feet.  Involuntarily  he  recoiled 
before  the  anger  blazing  in  my  eyes — his  hands 
clenched.  I  got  a  grip  on  myself  in  time. 

"  You  oughtn't  to  have  done  that." 

"  I'd  do  it  again,"  cried  the  young  fellow  un- 
dauntedly. 

"  Take  a  look  at  me,  my  boy,"  I  said.  "  I'm 
two  inches  taller  than  you.  I'm  as  much  bigger 
around  the  chest.  I've  fought  all  over  the  world — 
and  you  struck  me." 

"  Yes,  I  did." 

"  I'm  quite  able  to  beat  you  to  a  pulp,"  I  went 
on,  "  but  I'm  not  going  to  do  it.  Do  you  know 
why?" 

"  Because  you're  in  the  wrong !  " 

"  No.  It's  for  Rex's  sake — and  Norah's.  But 
I  warn  you,  Aleck,  next  time  I  won't  be  so  patient 
with  you." 

He  stuck  to  has  point  with  a  courage  for  which 
I  admired  him.  "  You  haven't  answered  my  ques- 
tion. Are  you  engaged  to  marry  Miss  Sutphen, 
Mr.  Schuyler?  " 

"  Don't  let  what  you  imagine  to  be  righteous 
anger  carry  you  away,"  I  returned.  "  Do  I  un- 
derstand that,  in  the  absence  of  her  brother — of 
Ned  Sutphen — you're  asking  me  that  question  on 
Mrs.  Sutphen's  authority?" 

"  No-o.     What  do  you  mean?  " 

"  Then  the  fact  that  you  ask  at  all  shows  you 
have  no  right  to  ask." 


A  SHARPENED  SPOON  89 

"  No  right  ?  "  he  faltered,  seeing  my  drift. 

"  No.  Whether  or  not  Miss  Sutphen  and  I  are 
engaged  only  concerns  ourselves,  and  her  mother." 

He  was  silent,  his  eyes  fell  before  mine.  "  I — 
I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  said  at  last. 

"  That  being  clear,  I  don't  mind  telling  you  that 
Ellen  and  I  are  not  engaged." 

"  You  aren't !  "  He  stepped  toward  me,  his 
hand  half  outstretched.  But  my  lip  still  smarted — 
I  shoved  back  my  chair,  and  made  my  way  into 
the  drawing-room. 

Mrs.  Sutphen  and  the  three  Savartons  were 
already  lost  in  a  game  of  bridge.  The  catch- 
phrases  of  the  players — as  solemn  as  if  a  divine 
revelation — harassed  my  ears  as  I  entered  the  room. 

Ellen  was  at  the  piano,  the  Archers  hovering  over 
her.  I  joined  Norah  Westbrook,  for  the  moment 
alone  on  the  window  seat,  her  hands  toying  with  a 
bronze  paper  cutter.  She  brandished  it  at  me  play- 
fully as  I  drew  a  chair  beside  her. 

"  Woman-hater !  The  other  men  have  been  here 
for — mvnutes.  Were  you  fighting  your  battles 
over  with  my  baby  brother?  " 

"  You  may  caU  it  that." 

"Isn't  he  a  boy?  He  enjoys  all  that  sort  of 
thing  so.  By  the  way,  where  is  he?  " 

"  In  the  dining-room.  He'll  be  here  pretty  soon, 
I  fancy." 

"  I  do  hope  you  haven't  been  stirring  him  up  to 
go  into  exploring.  He  admires  you  so  much  I'm 
afraid  he'll  want  to  follow  your  example." 


90  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

"  No  fear,"  I  returned,  so  dryly  that  her  eyes 
sought  my  face. 

"  Don't  you  think  so  ?  "  I  felt  her  searching 
glance  rest  on  my  mouth.  "  Mr.  Schuyler,  do  you 
know  your  lip  is  bleeding?  " 

I  was  annoyed.      "  No,  I  didn't." 

I  pressed  my  handkerchief  to  my  mouth  hastily — 
it  held  a  stain  or  two  of  blood  when  I  drew  it  away. 
"  It's  nothing.  The  edge  of  that  coffee  spoon  was 
as  sharp  as  a  razor.  I'll  tell  Mrs.  Sutphen  so 
when  I  get  a  chance." 

My  desire  to  pass  the  matter  over  was  too  evi- 
dent. The  girl  was  quick-witted — besides,  she 
knew  her  brother's  impetuous  character.  Her 
troubled  eyes  questioned  me  insistently. 

"  Is  Aleck's  lip  cut,  too  ?  Perhaps  that's  why  he's 
staying  so  long  over  his  cigar — it  isn't  like  him." 

"  I  think  I  had  the  only  sharp  spoon,"  I  rej  oined 
as  carelessly  as  I  could. 

"  Oh!     You  say  Aleck  isn't  cut — or — bruised?  " 

"  No.     Why  should  he  be?  " 

I  regarded  her  calmly — her  eyes  cleared. 

"  Thank  you,"  she  said  softly. 

Just  then  Theresa  entered  and  stood  near  Mrs. 
Sutphen's  chair.  Mrs.  Sutphen  looked  up  from 
her  cards. 

"What  is  it,  Theresa?" 

The  maid  arched  her  blonde  eyebrows.  Hier 
mistress  gave  her  a  sharp  glance,  then  quietly  laid 
down  her  cards. 


A  SHARPENED  SPOON  91 

"  Will  you  take  my  hand,  Norah?  This  being 
housekeeper,  you  know " 

She  resigned  her  place  to  Miss  Westbrook,  and 
followed  Theresa  from  the  room.  General  Savarton 
glared  after  her,  mildly  contemptuous. 

"  To  abandon  bridge  in  the  middle  of  a  deal — 
for  a  household  matter !  Well,  well !  And  yet  she 
aspires  to  be  a  devotee — a  real  pundit !  I  was 
afraid  she  had  something  on  her  mind  when  she  led 
from  the  short  suit  on  the  third  round  and  finessed 
for  the  ace.  It's  your  play,  Norah." 

As  I  strolled  toward  the  group  at  the  piano, 
Ellen  detached  herself  and  moved  toward  the  door. 
Her  glance  went  past  me — Theresa  was  standing  in 
the  doorway,  her  eyebrows  again  arching  signifi- 
cantly. 

"  Now  what  the  devil's  up  ?  "  I  mused,  as  Ellen 
left  the  room.  "  Does  it  take  all  three  to  see  if 
the  carriages  are  ordered  for  the  right  time,  or  to 
make  sure  the  servants  have  had  enough  dinner?  " 
I  felt  for  my  wallet  ana  was  relieved  to  find  it  in  my 
pocket.  "  That's  safe,  at  any  rate." 

As  the  Archers  and  I  clustered  at  the  piano,  try- 
ing to  badger  each  other  into  singing,  Aleck  West- 
brook  joined  us.  Norah  glanced  at  him  as  he  came 
in,  frank  relief  in  her  eyes. 

"  We're  trying  to  get  Craig  to  sing  a  Hindoo 
song,"  explained  Dot  Archer.  "  He's  an  awfully 
obstinate  man.  I'm  sure  he  must  sing  beautifully 
— he's  s>o  indifferent  about  it." 


92  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

"  I  don't  know  any  Hindoo  song,"  I  protested. 

"  A  Sumatran  song  then."  Norah  was  oblivious 
of  General  Savarton's  sniff  of  protest. 

"  Yes,  yes,"  cried  Dot.  "  Sing  the  one  you  used 
to  sing  to  her" 

I  started.     "  To  her?  " 

"  Yes,  there  must  have  been  a  Her,  sometime — 
in  the  East." 

"  Nonsense !  " 

"  Sing  it,  at  any  rate." 

I  felt  Norah's  eyes  upon  me,  and  the  demon  of 
mischief  woke  within  me. 

"  Very  well."  I  sang  to  my  own  accompani- 
ment: 

"  The  keenest  spears  that  warriors  own, 
The  bright  gems  in  a  Raja's  throne, 
Twin  stars  that  shine  for  me  alone — 
Her  eyes  to  me. 

"  A  golden  sunbeam  in  the  sun, 
Sweet-scented  dusk  when  day  is  done, 
More  luscious  night  when  night's  begun — 
Her  hair  to  me. 

"  The  white  moon  peeping  through  a  cloud, 
A  lily-bud,  serenely  proud, 
But  cold  as  snow  that  drapes  a  shroud — 
Her  breast  to  me." 

It  -was  a  song  I  had  sung  to  Her.  But  she  had 
not  been  cold.  Thank  Heaven !  she  had  not  been 
cold! 

Perhaps,  as  I  sang  on,  I  had  put  more  feeling 


A  SHARPENED  SPOON  93 

into  my  voice  than  I  had  intended,  for  Norah's 
eyes  fell  before  mine  when  I  looked  up,  and  the 
blood  came  and  went  in  her  cheek. 

I  was  finishing  when  Ellen  reentered.  She  mur- 
mured some  apology  to  Augusta  and  Norah  for  her 
mother's  absence — I  caught  the  words:  "mother" 
and  "  very  sorry." 

A  moment  later  she  joined  me  at  the  window  seat. 

"  Craig,  mother  wished  me  to  say  she's  been 
taken  with  a  headache,"  she  began  timidly.  "  I 
hope  you'll  let  her  off." 

For  once  I  found  no  pleasure  in  her  deprecatory, 
not  to  say  fearful,  tone.  I  had  a  sudden  desire  to 
meet  her  on  equal  ground  again — to  cast  off  for  a 
moment  the  attitude  of  mastery  I  had  thus  far 
revelled  in. 

"  My  dear  girl,  you  don't  need  to  apologize." 

To  my  astonishment  she  flashed  out  at  me.  "  I 
will  ask  you  to  keep  your  adjectives  to  yourself. 
Endearments  I  won't  stand."  Her  voice  was  low 
but  shaking  with  anger  and' shame. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon.  I  didn't  mean  to  be  pre- 
sumptuous, Nell.  It  wasn't  a  term  of  endearment 
— only  a  facon  de  parler,  on  my  honor." 

I  think  the  humility  of  my  reply  astonished  her 
even  more  than  her  sudden  spirit  had  surprised  me. 
The  passion  died  out  of  her  voice. 

"  Of  course.  I  oughtn't  to  be  so  foolish.  But 
— but  I  never  quite  know  what  you  mean,  Craig." 

"  I'm  not  sure  I  know  myself.     By  the  way,  do 


94  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

you  realize  that  Westbrook  is  your  ardent  cham- 
pion, as  well  as  admirer?  He  breaks  a  lance  for  you 
in  reckless  style." 

"  Does  he  ?     What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

I  leaned  toward  her.  "  Do  you  see  anything 
unusual — about  my  mouth?  " 

She  studied  me  curiously.  "  Yes.  Your  lip 
looks  bruised.  It's  been  bleeding,  hasn't  it?  " 

"  A  little." 

Her  eyes  widened — she  questioned  me  mutely. 

"  Yes,"  I  nodded.  "  Aleck  has  been  breaking 
lances." 

"Why— did  he  strike  you?" 

"  I  laughed  at  the  wrong  time." 

"Why?" 

"  We  were  discussing  you — and  I  laughed." 

I  received  another  surprise.  If  I  expected  any- 
thing, I  expected  her  to  blush  with  shame  and  im- 
potent anger — perhaps  to  press  her  teeth  against 
her  trembling  lower  lip.  But  she  did  neither.  She 
spoke  in  an  even  tone. 

"  Did  you — strike  back  ?  " 

"  No — he's  only  a  hot-headed  boy." 

"  I— I  wish  you  had." 

"What!" 

"  I  can  fight  my  own  battles,"  she  flashed.  Her 
look,  proud,  disdainful,  haughty,  lingers  yet  in 
my  mind. 


A  POINT  OF  HONOR 

I  WAS  bidding  Norah  good-night  under  the  porte- 
cochere  when  Dirck  passed  us  on  his  way  to  the 
garage.  His  eyes  lingered  persistently  on  Norah 
and  I  caught  the  color  mounting  to  her  cheeks. 
She  moved  toward  him,  holding  out  her  hand  impul- 
sively. 

"DuBois!" 

He  stopped  and  bowed  profoundly.  "  Made- 
moiselle? "  Her  hand  was  swallowed  up  in  his. 

"  Mr.  Schuyler  has  been  telling  us  about  you," 
she  said  sweetly.  "  What  you  did  for  those  women 
and  babies — in  the  Austrian  railway  train." 

He  gave  me  a  quick  glance.  "  Yes,  made- 
moiselle ?  " 

She  seemed  suddenly  to  realize  that  he  still  held 
her  hand — she  withdrew  it  with  a  touch  of  hauteur 
that  left  him  quite  unembarrassed. 

"  I  just  wanted  to  tell  you — I  think  it  was — 
very  fine  of  you."  By  this  time  the  crimson  had 
mounted  to  her  hair,  for  his  admiring  eyes  never 
left  her  face. 

"  Mademoiselle !  "     His  voice  was  a  murmur. 

For  a  moment  they  looked  at  each  other — she 
with  her  lips  parted,  he  with  his  white  teeth  show- 
ing in  a  faint  smile.  Then  he  bowed  again  and 
moved  away. 

95 


96  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

"  What  a  strange  man,"  she  said. 

After  the  guests  were  gone  I  exchanged  good- 
nights  with  Ellen — her  pale  face  glanced  back  at 
me  over  her  shoulder  as  I  stood  watching  her  up 
the  stairway — and  proceeded  to  my  room. 

The  day  had  been  a  busy  one.  I  was  well  content 
to  get  myself  into  dressing-gown  and  slippers,  and 
to  lounge  idly  in  an  armchair  while  waiting  for 
Dirck. 

I  wondered  what  Aleck  Westbrook's  thoughts 
were  that  night,  and  what  Norah's,  and  what  Nell's. 
I  took  it  for  granted  Aleck  would  not  care  to  carry 
out  his  project  of  running  with  his  bloodhound  the 
next  day.  I  laughed  to  think  that,  perhaps,  he  was 
that  moment  wishing  the  dog  had  been  trained  to 
attack  man. 

I  stretched  myself  out  luxuriously,  my  mind 
dwelling  upon  Ellen.  How  haughty  she  had  been 
when  she  declared  herself  able  to  fight  her  own 
battles !  And  how  pale  she  had  turned  when  I 
clasped  the  iron  bracelet  on  her  wrist;  and  again 
how  she  had  flushed  when  I  found  her  with  the 
shabby-looking  man  at  Mary  Finney's  !  There  was 
a  problem  that  chafed  me  more  every  minute.  It 
was  absurd  to  suspect — impossible  that  she — yet 
who  the  devil  was  the  fellow ! 

I  craned  my  neck  to  see  my  watch  on  the  dress- 
ing-table. Nearly  midnight.  It  was  hardly 
twenty-four  hours  since  I  had  arrived  in  my  car  at 
"  Red  Cedars  " — like  a  thunderbolt  from  a  clear 


A  POINT  OF  HONOR  97 

sky.  "  Deus  ex  machina,"  I  chuckled,  **  an  aveng- 
ing god  at  that." 

It  had  been  late  for  a  call — only  Theresa  had 
been  awake  when  I  rang  the  bell  peremptorily, 
Dirck  in  the  meanwhile  finding  his  way  unconcern- 
edly to  the  garage. 

I  amused  myself  with  the  recollection  of  Theresa's 
frank  astonishment  when  I  had  insisted  upon  see- 
ing the  ladies  at  once. 

"  They  aren't  at  home." 

"  I  think  they  will  be— to  me." 

"  But  they've  retired,  sir." 

"  No  matter — wake  them  up." 

"  Perhaps,  if  you  can  give  me  the  message,  it 
will  do  as  well." 

"  I  must  see  them  personally — it  is  absolutely 
imperative." 

"  Please,  sir,  it's  nearly  twelve  o'clock." 

To  cut  short  discussion  I  had  given  her  my  name, 
previously  withheld,  and  marked  how  she  had  re- 
turned one  long  stare,  then  had  fallen  a-trembling 
through  all  her  plump,  pretty  figure.  It  was  this 
shakiness  that  had  first  led  me  to  suspect  that  she 
shared  her  mistress's  guilty  secret. 

A  wait  of  half  an  hour — I  could  picture  the 
consternation  above  stairs — and  then  had  followed 
the  interview — stormy  on  Mrs.  Sutphen's  part, 
coldly  contemptuous  and  emphatic  on  mine,  dis- 
tressed and  miserable  on  Ellen's. 

In  the  end  I  had  been  left  the  master,  as  I  had 
7 


98  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

known  I  must  be.  My  position  was  impregnable  to 
all  assault.  Mrs.  Sutphen's  alternate  pleadings 
and  reproaches  had  dashed  themselves  in  vain 
against  the  wall  of  my  indifference. 

And  Ellen?  She  had  not  pleaded — had  hardly 
spoken — only  faced  me  palely,  as  much  in  wonder 
as  in  fear — wonder  that  the  man  whom  she  had  last 
seen  almost  literally  at  her  feet  could  now  loom 
so  bitterly  dominant. 

Norah  Westbrook?  There  was  a  different  sort. 
One  might  go  a  four  years'  journey  without  find- 
ing anything  to  compare  with  her  hair — "  the  dust 
o'  the  stars  for  her  to  wear."  Dirck  had  stared 
at  her  outrageously,  yet  I  was  not  sure  that  he 
dreamed  of  impertinence. 

As  I  sat  musing  I  heard  his  knock  at  the  door. 
I  bade  him  come  in. 

"Is  that  you,  Dirck?  By  Jove!  I  believe  I 
was  nearly  asleep.  What  time  is  it?  " 

"  Only  twelve  o'clock,  if  you  please,  monsieur." 

"  Drop  it,  man !  "  I  exclaimed. 

"  I  am  monsieur's  servant." 

"  Oh,  all  right,  confound  it !  Lucky  it  isn't  a 
hundred  years  ago,  or  I'd  give  you  a  caning  while 
I  was  about  it !  Well,  the  dinner  was  over  sooner 
than  I'd  expected  it  to  be.  Something  or  other 
went  wrong — Mrs.  Sutphen  withdrew  on  the  plea 
of  a  headache — and  then,  of  course,  everybody 
melted  away  a  little  later.  Strange!  I  wonder 
what  it  really  was." 


A  POINT  OF  HONOR  99 

I  was  thinking  aloud  rather  than  talking  to  my 
man.  The  good  fellow  understood  my  mood  and 
made  no  answer. 

"  Sit  down,  Dirck.  I  want  to  talk  to  you  a  bit. 
You  brought  the  wire  and  pincers?" 

"  Yes  monsieur."  He  seated  himself  without 
diffidence.  "  You  wish  me  to  repair  something?  " 

"  We'll  get  to  that  pretty  soon.  First  I  want 
to  discuss  my  affairs  with  you  a  little — personal 
affairs." 

He  touched  his  close-cropped  moustache  with 
powerful  fingers  and  fixed  his  innocent  blue  eyes 
upon  me. 

I  hesitated,  rather  at  a  loss  where  to  begin.  What 
I  wanted  to  say  did  not  come  so  easily  as  I  had 
thought. 

"  You  remember  where  you  picked  up  Miss  Sut- 
phen  and  me  this  evening? — in  the  sunken  lane?" 

"Returning  from  your  walk?     Of  course." 

"  Over  that  hill  and  across  a  meadow — on  the 
brink  of  quite  a  gorge — is  a  farmhouse  where  they 
sell  apple-pies.  You  follow  me  ?  " 

"  Without  doubt." 

"  A  few  minutes  before  you  met  us  I'd  surprised 
Miss  Sutphen  in  that  farmhouse." 

The  shrewd  fellow  caught  the  vital  word.  "  You 
surprised  her?  " 

"  Yes.  She'd  gone  out  walking  without  my 
knowledge — in  fact  against  my  wishes.  So,  as  I 
say,  I  stumbled  on  her  quite  unexpectedly  in  a 


100  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

sort  of  outdoor  gallery  of  this  farmhouse  and — 
there  was  a  man  with  her." 

Dirck's  eyes  snapped.     "  Ah !  " 

"  A  man  brushed  past  me  as  I  entered  the  place — 
and  Miss  Sutphen  was  standing  by  a  table  as  if  she 
had  been  talking  to  him.  The  fellow  was  evidently 
scared  away  by  my  unexpected  appearance." 

"  Truly,  it  would  seem  so." 

"  Now  I  want  you  to  go  out  there  the  first  thing 
to-morrow  and  see  if  you  can  get  track  of  the 
fellow.  Mary  Finney's  cottage  is  the  place.  You 
can't  very  well  miss  it.  Just  follow  the  road  up 
from  the  village  to  where  you'll  see  an  apple- 
orchard  over  the  river  gorge.  Find  out,  if  you 
can,  who  the  man  is  and  what  the  devil  he  was 
doing  there." 

Dirck's  fingers  ceased  to  smoothe  his  moustache. 
They  now  tapped  the  arm  of  his  chair  and  his 
eyes  avoided  mine.  I  felt  vaguely  that  something 
was  wrong. 

"  You  understand  what  I  want?  " 

"  Certainly.  Of  course,  you  wish  me  to  discover 
who  the  man  is  in  order  that  you  may  send  him  a 
challenge.  Is  it  not  so?  " 

"  No,  that's  not  it.  One  can't  fight  a  duel  in 
America,  you  know — one  can  only  murder  a  man 
when  he  becomes  intolerable — nothing  so  uncivilized 

as  a  duel.  I  simply  want  you  to  learn  who " 

Then  I  saw  his  point.  "  Oh !  "  I  muttered,  and 
was  silent. 


A  POINT  OF  HONOR  101 

"  Dirck,"  I  went  on  after  a  moment,  "  you're 
right  as  usual.  I  don't  know  what  I'd  do  without 
you." 

"  Monsieur " 

"  What  could  I  have  been  thinking  of?  To  spy 
deliberately  on  a  woman  or  a  woman's  friends — of 
all  the  caddish  ideas  !  " 

"  Ah,"  he  said  deprecatingly. 

"  Let's  try  to  forget  it." 

I  was  silent  so  long  that  Dirck  finally  aroused 
me  with  a  question, 

"  Is  there  anything  else,  monsieur?  " 

"  Yes.  Have  you  noticed  anything  peculiar 
about  my  visit  here? — the  attitude  my  hostesses 
have  toward  me,  and  that  I  have  toward  them?  " 

He  studied  me  shrewdly.  "  Monsieur  seems  to 
be  very  much  at  home." 

"  Precisely,  Dirck.  I  am  at  home — I'm  master 
here,  against  their  wills.  I  mention  this  so  you 
won't  come  to  any  wrong  conclusions  from  what 
you  see  going  on.  Thank  Heaven !  they  are  above 
reproach  in  that  direction,  at  any  rate." 

"  In  other  directions  then  ?  " 

"  They  aren't — that's  it.  I  hold  a  sword  over 
them,  Dirck — I'm  using  it  mercilessly,  too,  because 
they  used  me  mercilessly  years  ago." 

"  That  was  the  reason  monsieur  went  to  Su- 
matra? I  have  seen  monsieur  gaze  into  the  fire 
hours  at  a  time." 

"Yes,  that's  the  reason." 


102  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

"  Is  it  permitted  to  ask  the  shape  of  the  sword 
monsieur  carries?  Madame  and  mademoiselle  are 
women  of  the  great  world — not  easily  alarmed. 
Monsieur's  sword  must  be  as  sharp  as  a  barong." 

"  So  it  is.  Just  give  me  that  wallet,  will  you? 
Look  here." 

From  its  inner  fold  I  produced  a  narrow  slip  of 
buff -colored  paper.  "  There  you  are — look  that 
over." 

He  scanned  it  with  open  interest.  "  A  cheque 
— a  cheque  for  twenty-five  thousand  dollars  on  your 
bank." 

"  Yes,  but  look  at  the  signature." 

"  It  is  your  name,  and — ah !  "  In  spite  of  his 
self-possession  I  saw  his  eyes  widen. 

"You  see?" 

"  The  name  is  yours  but  the  handwriting  is " 

"  Is  not  mine,  most  emphatically." 

"  Ah?  "  he  breathed  slowly,  then :  "  Impossible !  " 

"  Read  the  endorsements." 

He  studied  the  back  of  the  slip,  then  handed  it  to 
me.  "  Impossible — but  true." 

"  Oh,  yes,  it's  true — it's  true.  God  knows  I 
wish  it  weren't " — I  grew  bitter — "  but  since  it  is, 
I'll  get  my  pay  for  it." 

"  But  the  prefecture — the  law — it  would  act  for 
you." 

"  No,  no.  I  don't  want  that  for  them.  I'll  get 
better  pay  than  putting  a  delicate  woman  behind 
bars." 


A  POINT  OF  HONOR  103 

He  nodded  comprehendlngly.  "  Monsieur  is 
right,  of  course."  He  gave  a  sigh  of  almost  per- 
sonal regret.  "  Yet,  I  would  have  believed  it  im- 
possible. So  charming,  so  gentle ! " 

"  You  and  I  have  seen  fair  faces  go  with  bad 
deeds  before  this." 

"  True."  He  stroked  his  blonde  moustache,  his 
eyes  thoughtful. 

I  replaced  the  cheque  in  the  wallet  and  tossed 
the  latter  onto  the  dressing-table.  Dirck's  eyes 
glanced  from  it  to  the  door. 

"  They're  not  far  apart." 

"  True  enough.  That's  why  I  got  you  to  bring 
your  tools.  You  see  that  pier-glass?  Anybody 
trying  to  reach  the  wallet  would  naturally  pass  in 
front  of  the  glass." 

"  Without  doubt." 

"  You'll  notice  the  thing  has  a  firm  base — solid 
mahogany.  You  can  use  that  as  an  anchor."  I 
proceeded  to  explain  to  him  what  I  had  in  mind. 

He  drew  his  tools  from  his  pocket  and  went  to 
work.  A  few  twists  of  the  wire  between  his  strong 
fingers,  a  clenching  here  and  there  with  the  pincers, 
and  the  thing  was  done. 

"  Are  you  sure  it  will  work?  " 

"  My  life  on  it,  monsieur.  And  yet  I  would  not 
leave  the  paper  in  the  wallet,  if  I  were  monsieur." 

"  Right,  you  are !  "  I  slipped  the  cheque  into  the 
pocket  of  my  dressing-gown  and  replaced  the  wallet 
on  the  table.  "  Now,  if  anyone  does  get  past  the 


104  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

pier-glass,  she'll — he'll  only  make  a  few  dollars  by 
it.  Well,  that's  all,  I  think,  Dirck." 

He  bade  me  good-night,  but  turned  at  the  door. 

"  Monsieur  was  wondering  why  it  was  that 
Madame  Sutphen  left  the  drawing-room  suddenly." 

"  Yes — something  was  said  about  a  headache." 

"  To-night,  while  I  was  talking  to  Theresa  in 
the  kitchen,  someone  knocked  at  the  outside  door. 
Theresa  opened  it — a  man  was  there.  She  stepped 
out  at  once,  and  when  she  came  back  she  said  it  was 
only  a  vagrant  she  had  sent  away.  I  thought  noth- 
ing of  it  then,  but  I  remember  now  her  face  was 
flushed  and  she  did  not  meet  my  eyes.  A  little  time 
after,  also,  she  went  toward  the  front  of  the  house 
and  was  gone  a  quarter  of  an  hour." 

"  You  think  the  man  brought  a  message  for  Mrs. 
Sutphen?" 

"  I  don't  know — I  mention  it  only." 

"  What  did  he  look  like?  " 

"  I  saw  only  that  he  was  mean-looking  and  young 
— as  young  as  monsieur." 

"  Hum !  all  right.     Thank  you,  Dirck." 

He  lingered,  his  eyes  held  away  from  me,  a  faint 
color  showing  in  his  bronzed  cheek. 

"  One  thing  more.  The  girl — the  blonde — she 
who  spoke  to  me  in  the  porte-cochere — who  is 
she?  " 

"  That's  Miss  Westbrook — Miss  Norah  West- 
brook,  who  lives  across  the  valley  there." 

"  She  has  been  in  France?  " 


A  POINT  OF  HONOR  105 

"  I'm  not  sure — I  think  it's  likely  though.  But 
every  charming  girl  hasn't  necessarily  acquired  her 
charm  in  France,  you  know.  You're  a  provincial 
— of  Paris,  man,  in  spite  of  all  your  travels." 

"  She  is — very  lovely." 

"  I  noticed  that  you  thought  so — you  showed  it 
pretty  plainly  when  she  spoke  to  you." 

"  Good-night,  monsieur." 

I  finished  my  preparations  for  the  night,  wrap- 
ping the  buff -colored  slip  of  paper  in  a  little  jewel- 
bag  I  happened  to  discover  in  a  drawer,  and  hang- 
ing the  bag  about  my  neck. 

I  turned  off  the  lights,  left  open  the  door  between 
my  bedroom  and  the  dressing-room,  and  in  gown, 
slippers,  and  pajamas,  stretched  myself  on  the  bed. 

I  meant  to  keep  awake,  but  while  I  was  wonder- 
ing why  Norah  had  blushed  when  Dirck  stared  at 
her,  I  fell  asleep. 


XI 

I  SURPRISE  A  PURITAN 

MY  sleep,  although  heavy  enough,  was  rather  a 
troubled  dream  than  restful  slumber. 

I  thought  I  was  again  in  the  smoking-room  of 
the  Lusitania,  homeward  bound.  The  smooth- 
faced, insolent-eyed  man  I  had  known  a  few  years 
before — "  Mr.  Carlos  Beauchamp  of  London  and 
Havana,"  as  the  Herald  put  it — renewed  acquaint- 
ance with  me,  and  joined  our  game  of  cards. 

Beauchamp's  appearance  was  particularly  in- 
teresting to  me  because  of  the  fact  that  I  had 
lately  seen  his  name  connected  in  the  newspapers 
with  that  of  Ellen  Sutphen. 

I  dreamed  over  what  had  actually  happened  on 
the  steamer.  The  first  day  I  had  tolerated  him, 
half-amused  by  his  easy  flow  of  talk  about  himself 
— the  second  day  I  was  not  so  sure  that  I  was  being 
amused.  The  third  day  his  talk — everlasting, 
damnably  perpetual  talk  about  himself — had  again 
made  plain  to  me  the  utterly  selfish  soul  of  the 
man. 

By  hearsay  and  reputation — by  the  naked  truth 
men  learn  at  their  clubs  and  women  never  hear 
or,  if  they  do,  never  believe,  provided  the  man 
concerned  is  personally  charming — by  these  things 
I  knew  Carlos  Beauchamp  was  a  cad,  unfit  to  look 
at  Ellen  Sutphen. 

106 


I  SURPRISE  A  PURITAN  107 

Nor  was  my  dislike  based  on  hearsay  alone — 
my  personal  experience  included  at  least  one  damn- 
ing fact  against  him.  Yet  this  was  long  past,  and 
I  was  aware  that  a  man  may  err  greatly,  and  later 
live  .greatly — may  sin,  and  afterward  grow  to 
higher  manhood. 

I  dreamed,  but  I  could  in  reality  have  slept  only 
a  few  minutes,  when  into  my  dream  broke  a  sudden 
rasping  sound,  then  a  low  exclamation,  followed 
by  a  noise  of  dragging. 

I  was  off  my  bed,  into  the  dressing-room,  and 
had  pressed  the  button  of  the  electric  lights  in  no 
time. 

Blinking  in  the  raw  glare,  but  still  struggling 
with  Dirck's  wire  trap  that  held  her  to  the  pier- 
glass,  was  a  girl.  Her  face — the  face  of  a  trapped 
creature — turned  half  toward  me  in  terror,  half 
away  in  shame.  Once  her  hand  made  a  little  flut- 
tering gesture,  then  fell  at  her  side.  Once  she 
stooped  and  wrenched  desperately  at  the  clutching 
wire.  Then  she  straightened  up  and  stood,  her 
head  drooping,  her  lips  trembling. 

All  this  was  only  what  I  had  expected.  But 
I  had  expected  to  see,  caught  in  the  spring  wire, 
either  Mrs.  Sutphen  or  Ellen.  I  had  even  pic- 
tured the  latter,  cowering,  her  kimono  drawn  close 
about  her. 

But  who  was  this?  The  slim  body  was  plainly 
clad,  although  the  gown  was  very  dainty.  The 
hair  was  coiled  in  braids  about  her  head,  and  the 
dark-brown  eyes  entreated  me  from  under  lashes 


108  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

whose  length  was  added  to  by  the  shadows  beneath. 

She  stood  before  me,  her  head  still  hanging — I 
stared  at  her.  Then  I  remembered. 

"Well,  Fllbe  hanged!" 

She  made  no  answer,  except  to  draw  in  her  lower 
lip  like  a  frightened  child. 

"  Miss  Mary  Finney,  isn't  it  ?  "  I  asked  politely. 

Still  she  said  nothing. 

"  May  I  ask  what  in  the  world  you  are  doing 
here  ?  Are  you  walking  in  your  sleep  ?  " 

Her  silence  persisted,  but  I  noted  the  involuntary 
straying  of  her  eyes  toward  the  dressing-table.  A 
light  broke  upon  me. 

"  Ah,  ho !  I  think  I  understand  to  what  I  owe 
the  honor  of  your  visit.  Miss  Sutphen  called  at 
your  cottage  this  afternoon  to  engage  the  services 
of  a  thief — wasn't  that  it?  Strange  that  you 
should  have  accepted  her  offer,  Miss  Finney !  If 
it  had  been  the  fellow  who  ran  away  when  I  came  in, 
it  would  have  seemed  more  reasonable — he  looked 
the  part." 

The  girl  in  the  trap  flushed  darkly.  She  raised 
her  head  and  faced  toward  me  as  if  about  to  make 
a  sharp  retort. 

"Well?"  I  urged  affably. 

"  I  shall  say — nothing."  Her  voice  if  husky  was 
soft  and  well-toned. 

"  You'd  better.  Is  there  any  reason  why  I 
shouldn't  turn  you  over  to  the  police?  I  fancy 
your  visit  would  look  odd  even  to  the  town  con- 
stables. You  came  here  to  steal,  didn't  you  ?  " 


I  SURPRISE  A  PURITAN  109 

I  paused,  but  she  kept  an  obstinate  silence. 

"  I  could  hardly  expect  you  to  admit  it,  but  one 
doesn't  go  into  a  stranger's  room  late  at  night  for 
the  fun  of  the  thing.  Isn't  that  so?  Look  here! 
did  you  need  money  so  much  that  Miss  Sutphen 
could  bribe  you  for  a  few  dollars  to  be  a  thief? 
It's  enough  to  make  your  ancestors  turn  in  their 
graves.  You're  of  honest  Puritan  stock,  aren't 
you,  Miss  Finney?" 

Still  she  preserved  her  marvellous  silence.  I 
moved  past  her  to  the  table  and  took  a  bill  from 
my  wallet. 

"  Here !  "  I  held  it  out  to  her.  "  I  won't  be  hard 
on  you,  if  you  need  money  so  badly  that  you  have 
to  steal.  Take  this,  if  that's  what  you're  after." 

For  a  moment  she  stared  at  me.  "  Keep  your — 
your  hateful  money!  Oh,"  she  went  on  tremu- 
lously, "  it's  true,  what  they  said — you  are  hard 
— a  man  that's  always  sneering." 

Drawing  in  her  trembling  lip,  she  pulled  so  fran- 
tically at  her  captured  foot  that  the  heavy  pier- 
glass  fairly  tottered. 

"  Don't,  don't,"  I  said.  "  You'll  hurt  yourself." 
I  leant  and  released  her  foot  from  the  wire. 
"  That's  better.  Now  you're  free." 

She  repeated  the  word.     "  Free?  " 

"Yes.     Not  only  your  foot,  but  you're  free  to 

go-" 

Beneath  the  dark  eyelashes  I  caught  the  gleam  of 
unutterable  amazement.  I  went  on. 

"  You  deserve  freedom  for  your  masterly  silence. 


110  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

Only  a  police  judge  could  get  anything  out  of  you, 
and  the  police  sha'n't  have  anything  to  do  with 
this." 

Although  the  wire  no  longer  held  her  and  I  took 
care  to  stand  clear  of  the  door,  she  made  no  effort 
to  escape.  The  thoughts  of  a  hopeless  animal 
suddenly  released  from  a  fatal  trap  would  be  inter- 
esting to  the  hunter. 

"  Before  I  let  you  out  of  the  back  door,  let  me 
give  you  some  advice,  Miss  Finney,  if  that's  really 
your  name.  The  advice  is — keep  clear  of  matters 
that  don't  concern  you." 

The  girl  wrung  her  hands — a  despairing  gesture 
I  had  supposed  unused  since  the  Middle  Ages. 
"  Oh !  but  they  do,  they  do !  " 

"  In  what  way?  " 

She  was  on  her  guard  again.  "  I'm  sorry,  Mr. 
Schuyler.  I  can't  answer  you." 

**  Very  well.  I  suppose  you  know  the  way  to 
the  back  door — you  aren't  staying  in  the  house,  are 
you  ?  "  She  shook  her  head.  "  Then  lead  the  way, 
— Ill  see  you  safely  out." 

I  followed  her  from  the  room,  closing  the  door  be- 
hind me.  Thence  we  traversed  the  hall,  descended 
a  rear  stairway,  threaded  a  passage  or  two  and 
paused  at  a  back  door.  The  key  was  ir  the  lock — 
I  turned  it  and  swung  the  door  softly  open. 

We  looked  out  on  a  night  rather  dark  and  with 
a  hint  of  frost  in  the  air.  If  there  was  a  moon, 
it  was  overcast.  A  few  stars  glittered  here  and 


I  SURPRISE  A  PURITAN"  111 

there — the  red  claw  of  Scorpio  curling  brilliantly 
against  the  black  sky. 

"  Here  we  are.     Where  you  are  going  now?  " 

"  Home,"  she  answered  huskily. 

"  It's  several  miles — part  of  the  way  through 
woods.  Even  in  peaceful  New  England  that  won't 
be  very  pleasant  for  a  woman.  If  you'll  wait  a 
moment  I'll  rouse  my  man,  DuBois,  and  have  him 
take  you  in  the  car." 

"  No,  no — please !  It's  perfectly  safe.  There's 
— I'm "  Her  distress  was  evident. 

"  All  right,"  I  hastened  to  assure  her.  "  Just  as 
you  like." 

She  lingered  half  in,  half  out,  the  door.  I 
waited  for  her  to  speak. 

"  Mr.  Schuyler,  please  don't  think  I  don't  know 
that  you've  treated  me — a  thousand  times  better 
than  I  deserve.  You  aren't — so  hard — as  they 
said."  She  was  lost  in  the  darkness  before  I  could 
answer. 

I  stared  up  at  Scorpio's  crimson  claw.  "  Now, 
isn't  this  a  go  !  Doesn't  this  fairly  beat  the  Dutch ! 
A  little  Puritan  country  girl  like  that  breaking 
into  my  room  at  night!  And  silent?  General 
Grant  was  positively  garrulous  compared  to  her." 

Red  Scorpio  returned  no  answer  to  my  amazed 
appeal.  I  shut  and  locked  the  door,  and  started  to 
make  my  way  back  to  my  rooms. 

The  passageways  through  which  I  had  to  find  my 
way,  were  only  dimly  lighted,  and  I  had  followed 


112  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

Mary  Finney  so  intent  on  the  problem  her  pres- 
ence presented  that  I  had  hardly  observed  the 
course  we  took.  I  was  feeling  my  way  toward  my 
room,  with  due  caution  of  a  wrong  turn  or  a  lurk- 
ing chair,  when  I  noticed  a  strange  thing. 

The  door  of  my  room  was  ajar  and  the  light 
from  within  was  streaming  into  the  hall ! 

Without  a  sound  I  pushed  it  wider — until  there 
was  space  to  intrude  my  head. 

My  wallet,  wide  open,  lay  on  the  floor  where  it 
had  been  flung  in  exasperation,  and  at  the  dressing- 
table  a  woman  was  rifling  the  drawer  with  frantic 
haste. 

She  whirled  about  as  I  stepped  quietly  into  the 
room.  It  was  Theresa,  the  pretty  Swede. 

She  gave  a  gasping  cry,  and  made  as  if  to  rush 
through  me  and  the  door  I  had  shut  behind  me.  I 
held  up  my  hand. 

"  Not  so  fast." 

"Oh!"  she  cried.  "Let  me  out!  Please,  sir, 
I  didn't  mean  any  harm.  I  just  came  in  because  I 
saw  the  door  open  and " 

"  The  door  wasn't  open." 

"  Oh,  sir,  if  you'll  please  let  me  go — I  only 
wanted  to  see " 

"  Tut,  tut,  my  dear.  You  don't  need  to  explain 
why  you  came," 

I  spoke  so  easily  that  perhaps  the  maid  took  me 
for  another  sort  than  I  was.  A  portion  of  her 
terror  seemed  to  vanish.  Her  clasped  hands  parted. 


I  SURPRISE  A  PURITAN  113 

"  Did  you  find  what  you  were  looking  for,  The- 
resa? "  I  asked.  "  Probably  not,  judging  from 
the  careless  way  you've  thrown  things  about.  Per- 
haps you'll  have  a  chance  to  think  it  over  for  a 
year  or  two — in  the  Massachusetts  Penitentiary." 

She  began  to  whimper  at  once.  "  Oh,  Mr.  Schuy- 
ler,  please,  sir,  I  didn't  mean  any  harm.  I  came  in 
here  because " 

Again  I  interrupted  her,  in  disgust  of  what  I 
knew  her  about  to  say.  I  had  no  desire  to  hear 
her  disclose  her  mistress's  plot. 

"  Never  mind.  I'm  not  blaming  you.  But  The- 
resa, if  I  ever  catch  you  at  this  sort  of  thing 
again,  I  swear  I'll  send  you  to  jail.  Understand?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  she  whimpered. 

"  Then  clean  up  that  mess  you've  made,  and 
clear  out — I  want  to  go  to  bed." 

Her  tears  vanished  on  the  instant.  I  seated 
myself  in  the  armchair  and  watched  her  while  she 
put  the  drawer  in  order  and  restored  the  wallet 
to  its  place  on  the  table. 

"  Here's  another  situation  to  beat  the  Dutch," 
I  mused.  "  They're  having  a  regular  succession 
of  defeats.  If  any  of  my  friends  could  look  in  here 
on  this  highly — hum  ! — domestic  scene,  they'd  be 
rather  shocked,  I  fancy.  Imagine,  if  Norah  West- 
brook  should  hear  of  this — just  this  scene  without 
any  of  its  reasons  or  causes !  No  doubt  she'd  cut 
my  acquaintance  in  short  order." 

Something  of  my  enjoyment  of  the  situation 
8 


I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

must  have  showed  in  my  smile  as  I  watched  the 
pretty  Swede.  She  began  to  move  more  slowly  at 
the  work  of  straightening  my  ties  and  shirts  and 
glanced  at  me  over  her  shoulder. 

"  It  seems  awful  funny  me  being  here,  don't  it, 
Mr.  Schuyler?  " 

"  It  certainly  does,"  I  agreed. 

She  smiled  at  herself  in  the  glass.  The  little 
watch  saw  I  saw  her,  and  smiled  mischievously  at 
my  reflection. 

"  Mirrors  are  funny  things,  aren't  they,  sir?  " 

"  Very — almost  as  funny  as  your  being  here." 

She  pretended  to  hang  her  head,  but  I  could  see 
her  watching  me  from  the  corners  of  her  eyes. 
Now  and  then  she  stole  a  glance  of  satisfaction  at 
herself  in  the  mirror. 

"  Have  you  finished?  "  I  demanded  peremptorily. 

"  Yes,  sir.     Everything  looks  fine  now." 

"  Then  you  can  go.  And,  Theresa,  tell — ah — 
tell  the  person  who  sent  you  here  that  I  say  the 
business  would  be  a  little  less  wretched  if  she  would 
do  her  own  robbing." 

"  Sir?    I  don't  think  I  know  what  you  mean,  sir." 

"  Nonsense.  Tell  her  I  said  that.  Now,  run 
along." 

In  another  moment  I  had  shut  and  locked  the 
door  behind  her. 

I  switched  off  the  lights,  but  before  slipping  into 
bed,  went  to  the  open  window.  The  scorpion  star 
waved  a  red  claw  at  me  through  the  frosty  air. 


XII 

A  PROPOSAL  is  MENTIONED 

IT  was  morning  when  I  was  awakened  by  Dirck's 
knock  on  the  door.  I  hastened  to  respond  to  it. 

"  Good-morning,  monsieur.  It  is  half-past  eight, 
and  Mademoiselle  Sutphen  wishes  to  say  Monsieur 
Westbrook  sends  word  he  will  start  with  his  hound 
at  nine." 

"  So  Aleck  isn't  in  the  sulks  after  all." 

"  What,  monsieur?  " 

"  I  say  it's  all  right,  Dirck.  I'll  be  there  in  a 
jiffy.  No — half -past  eight  already,  you  say?  I'll 
never  make  it.  Ask  Miss  Sutphen  please  to  send 
word  to  Mr.  Westbrook  to  hold  off  half  an  hour  or 
so.  Give  her  my  apologies  and  say  I'll  be  down 
as  soon  as  I  can.  And  then  hustle  back  and  help 
me  dress,  Dirck." 

As  he  hastened  away  I  reflected  on  his  mes- 
sage. "  By  Jove !  she's  cool !  She  must  know  by 
this  time  that  her  brace  of  burglars  failed  last 
night,  yet  she  has  me  called  as  serenely  as  you  please. 
She  can't  possibly  imagine  that  I  believe  they  acted 
of  their  own  accord.  Humph!  for  the  time  being 
I'm  perfectly  willing  to  ignore  their  attempts." 
Dirck's  return  interrupted  my  meditations. 

In  forty  minutes,  with  his  able  assistance,  I  had 
bathed,  shaved,  and  donned  my  walking  togs,  had 

115 


116  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

had  my  eggs  and  coffee  in  my  room,  and  descended 
to  find  Ellen  awaiting  me  on  the  lawn. 

She  greeted  me  gaily — I  searched  in  vain  for 
any  trace  of  embarrassment  in  her  eyes.  "  Good- 
morning,  Uncle  Tom." 

"  Whah,  good-mawnin',  Eliza.  Ah  d'clah,  I's 
'bliged  to  ast  yo'  to  'scuse  me  fo'  sort  a  keepin'  yo' 
waitin'  this  mawnin'." 

"Sut'nly  Ah'll  'scuse  yo',  Unc'  Tom,"  she 
laughed.  "  Ain't  we  all  got  a  fine  mawnin'  fo' 
ouah  'scape !  " 

"  Glorious !  I  don't  wonder  Legree  is  about  to 
pursue  you  with  bloodhounds.  I'd  run  you  down 
with  an  airship  if  necessary  just  to  see  you  this 
morning."  I  swept  the  grass  with  my  cap  in  a 
low  bow. 

Indeed,  I  had  very  good  grounds  for  my  heroics. 
Her  Adirondack  running  costume  became  her  won- 
derfully. Coat,  knickerbockers,  and  stockings  were 
not  of  the  usual  gray  tweed,  but  were  made  of  some 
black  stuff,  quite  as  serviceable  and  infinitely  more 
charming,  I  thought.  The  little  half-boots  were 
black  as  was  the  cap  that  crowned  her  closely-coaled 
hair — a  cap  that  reminded  me  of  nothing  so  much 
as  the  bonnet  of  one  of  Robin  Hood's  merry  men. 

The  only  spots  of  color  in  her  costume  were 
touches  of  white  at  wrists  and  neck,  and  at  her 
throat  a  soft  scarlet  tie,  loosely  knotted. 

Her  face,  pricked  by  the  morning  air,  or  possibly 
by  the  flavor  of  genuineness  in  my  bit  of  gallantry, 


A  PROPOSAL  IS  MENTIONED        117 

had  a  tinge  of  red  in  each  cheek.  Cheeks  curved 
to  throat,  and  throat  swelled  to  lines  beneath,  as 
delicate  as  a  wood-pigeon's.  Her  hazel  eyes 
laughed  back  at  me  as  I  continued  to  gaze  at 
her  admiringly. 

"  You  didn't  really  think  I'd  come  prepared  to 
run  to  the  last  gasp,  did  you?  You  thought  I'd 
only  be  able  to  take  a  few  languid  steps." 

"  To  tell  the  truth,  I  didn't  expect  much  in  the 
running  line  from  you,  Nell,  but  I  can  see  I  totally 
misjudged  your  powers — more  shame  to  me. 
Hum-m,  it's  hard  to  tell." 

"Hard  to  tell  what?" 

"  Whether  you  look  more  cherub  than  boy, 
or " 

"  Oh.  You  can  make  up  your  mind  as  we  go — 
it's  high  time  for  us  to  be  miles  from  here.  Aleck 
will  be  bringing  over  the  hound  in  a  few  minutes — 
it  would  be  disgraceful  to  be  caught  before  we  were 
fairly  started." 

"  Very  good,  ma'am.     Which  way?  " 

"  Right  over  the  hill,  and  then  au  large." 

"Good!" 

At  the  last  moment  Dirck  slipped  a  lunch-pouch 
over  my  shoulder.  "  If  monsieur  and  mademoiselle 
need  refreshment." 

"  Right,  Dirck.  Now,  then,  Nell.  Off  and  away 
by  the  light  of  the  moon,  straight  across  the  border 
where  the  Fugitive  Slave  Law  doesn't  count." 

"  It  seems  to  count  nowadays."     She  broke  into 


118  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

an  easy  trot,  and  together  we  began  our  cross- 
country run. 

We  made  our  way  smoothly  up  the  hdll  and 
through  the  open  grove  of  oaks  along  its  crest. 
At  its  end  a  few  score  shafts  and  slabs  of  marble 
huddled  within  a  square  of  evergreens.  It  was  a 
country  graveyard — I  remembered  it  well. 

Beyond  this  we  were  out  of  sight  of  both  "  Red 
Cedars  "  and  "  Westbrook  Place,"  and  what  was 
even  more  to  the  point,  came  at  once  upon  a  stone 
wall,  extending  diagonally  right  and  left. 

"  Let's  go  along  the  top,"  said  my  leader.  "  It 
runs  quite  a  distance  in  that  direction." 

She  pointed  with  her  left  hand,  and  a  ring  of 
iron  showed  suddenly  beneath  the  white  of  her 
sleeve.  I  started — I  had  forgotten  the  bracelet  I 
had  locked  on  her  arm, 

"  On  the  wall?  "  I  asked  stupidly. 

"  Yes.  The  scent  doesn't  lie  well  on  rock,  you 
know.  The  hound  will  lose  the  trail  a  while  very 
likely — that'll  give  us  a  good  start.  Dear  me,  if 
he  doesn't  lose  it,  we're  '  gone  coons '  in  five  min- 
utes." 

Disdaining  to  make  use  of  my  proffered  arm,  she 
leaped  upon  the  wall  and  began  to  walk  rapidly 
along  it.  I  followed. 

It  must  have  carried  us  four  hundred  yards  be- 
fore we  came  to  a  corner.  Here  she  paused. 

"  We  must  jump  off  here — jump  as  far  as  we 
possibly  can — to  make  a  break  in  our  trail.  But  if 


A  PROPOSAL  IS  MENTIONED        119 

Aleck  is  feeling  really  clever  to-day,  he'll  just  make 
the  hound  circle  about  a  little  and  he'll  find  us  in 
no  time — I  mean,  after  he's  made  up  his  mind  which 
way  we've  gone,  right  or  left  from  the  evergreens 
there.  Hark!  what's  that?"  She  clapped  her 
hands  excitedly.  "  Oh,  they've  started.  Listen, 
Craig!  Isn't  it  music!  " 

It  was  music.  A  single  note  of  a  deep-toned 
bell  sounded  far  behind  us — then  another.  Then, 
slowly  drawing  nearer,  ravishingly  deep  and  clear,  a 
cadenced  peal  of  bells,  the  voice  of  the  bloodhound 
rang  in  the  autumn  air.  A  thrill  went  through  us. 
We  stared  at  each  other,  our  eyes  wide  with  the 
wonder  of  it — and  on  me,  at  least,  the  gooseflesh 
fairly  rose. 

"Wonderful!     Terrible!     Is  my  hair  on  end?" 

"  Not  quite.  Oh,  I'm  all  prickly !  Isn't  this 
fun,  and  aren't  you  glad  you  came,  Uncle  Tom? 
Jump  now,  as  far  out  as  you  can." 

"  One  minute,"  I  exclaimed.  "  Can  you  step 
onto  that  hickory — the  one  with  the  branch  that 
runs  straight  out  from  the  wall?  That's  it — good ! 
I'm  right  behind  you.  That's  five  yards  cleared 
without  a  trail.  Let  me  see."  I  glanced  about  for 
more  worlds  to  conquer. 

"Ah,  ha,!  into  the  next  one  just  like  it.  Swing 
yourself  into  the  sapling — never  mind  if  it  does 
bend — I  won't  get  on  till  you're  off  it.  You  see  it 
lets  you  right  onto  that  upland  gumb^^-ty.  They 
always  have  long  branches." 


120  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

"  Jolly !     Here  is  a  great  long  limb,  Craig." 

"What  did  I  tell  you?  Follow  it  out.  That's 
another  fifteen  yards  clear  again.  And  by  Jove! 
there's  a  wild  grapevine  hanging  right  across  that 
path!  If  we  were  only  monkeys  now — but  it's  too 
much  for  you.  We're  several  rods  from  the  wall, 
at  any  rate." 

Ellen,  imbued  with  the  spirit  of  the  game,  had 
been  working  her  way  through  the  lower  branches 
of  the  trees  as  easily  as  a  boy,  and  far  more  grace- 
fully. Now  her  exclamation  stopped  me  as  I  was 
about  to  drop  from  the  gumberry  bough  into  the 
path. 

"  Wait,  Craig !  I  can  do  it — hand  over  hand — 
voila!  " 

As  good  as  her  word,  she  swung  herself  out  from 
the  gumberry  and  hand  over  hand,  her  body  sway- 
ing like  a  charming  pendulum,  cleared  the  path  and 
dropped  into  the  copse  beyond.  In  a  moment  I 
was  beside  her. 

We  crouched  breathless  against  the  trunk  of  an 
oak. 

"  Great !  "  I  chuckled.  "  We'll  make  Aleck  think 
we've  escaped  in  a  balloon.  Listen !  They've  lost 
our  trail." 

Sure  enough,  the  chime  of  bells  broke  its  perfect 
time,  jumbled  doubtfully  once  or  twice,  then  ceased 
to  sound. 

"  They've  reached  the  wall,"  declared  Ellen. 
"  Of  course  Aleck  will  have  the  dog  upon  it  in  a 


A  PROPOSAL  IS  MENTIONED        121 

minute,  but  I'm  sure  the  scent  won't  lie.  We  ought 
to  gain  thirty  minutes  on  them,  at  least." 

But  instead  of  making  use  of  our  hard-earned 
half  hour  to  throw  a  mile  or  two  between  ourselves 
and  "  Legree,"  "  Eliza  "  and  I  sat  chatting  in  the 
copse. 

It  was  a  thicket  of  sapling  oak  and  ash,  down 
whose  slender  shafts  the  sun's  rays  here  and  there 
stretched  a  finger  of  light.  In  the  little  open  space 
where  we  sat  the  rays  seemed  to  focus,  making 
a  pleasant  warmth  about  us. 

"  *  Under  the  greenwood  tree,'  "  I  began. 

"  Please  go  on." 

"  I  like  the  second  verse  best ;  you  remember? 

"  '  Who  doth  ambition  shun, 
And  loves  to  lie  i'  the  sun, 
Seeking  the  food  he  eats, 
And  pleased  with  what  he  gets, 
Come  hither,  come  hither,  come  hither; 
Here  shall  he  see 
No  enemy 
But  winter  and  rough  weather.' " 

She  glanced  sidelong  at  me.  "  '  No  enemy,  but 
winter  and  rough  weather.'  "  I  fancied  she  spoke 
a  little  plaintively,  but  it  may  have  been  fancy 
only,  for  she  went  on  brightly  enough.  "  Does 
your  coming  back  to  America  mean  that  you  do 
ambition  shun?  Exploring  is  your  ambition, 
isn't  it?" 

"  Exploring  is  my  resource.     I'm  not  here  be- 


128  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

cause  I'm  giving  up  travelling — not  at  all.  I  came 
back  expressly  for  that — delightful  interview  we 
had — you  and  I  and  your  mother.  Otherwise,  I 
would  have  been  on  the  Bois  this  very  minute." 

Again  her  voice  was  plaintive.  "  It  doesn't  look 
as  if  we — mother  and  I — would  get  to  Paris  this 
year." 

"  No,  it  doesn't." 

A  golden-brown  oak  leaf  fluttered  waveringly 
down  to  her  knee.  She  blew  it  gaily  away.  "  Fly 
away,  Dull  Care !  Are  you  rested  enough  to  go  on, 
Craig?" 

I  crossed  my  legs  and  linked  my  fingers  behind 
my  head  in  luxurious  content. 

"  Not  quite.  Why  hurry?  Haven't  we  ages  be- 
fore us?  " 

"  Ages  before,  but  a  bloodhound  close  behind." 

«  Never  mind.  We'll  lie  perdu  here  in  this — 
this  yew  copse,  and  I'll  shoot  the  bloodhound 
through  and  through  with  my  clothyard  shaft." 

"  Then  I'll  wind  your  horn  for  you — of  course, 
you'll  be  too  proud  to  do  it  yourself — and  Little 
John  and  Allan-a-Dale " 

"And  Friar  Tuck." 

"  And  Friar  Tuck,  of  course,  and  Will  Scarlett, 
and  seven  score  tall  fellows  in  Lincoln  green,  will 
come  leaping  through  Sherwood  to  overwhelm — 
Legree." 

"  Well  said,  Maid  Marian  Eliza." 

We  laughed  together.     I,  for  one,  would  have 


A  PROPOSAL  IS  MENTIONED        123 

been  well  content  had  the  hound  been  ten  miles  be- 
hind us  instead  of  where  he  was. 

Ellen's  eyes  ran  over  me,  from  the  smooth-fitting 
leather  of  my  boots  to  the  hair  of  Tiy  bared  head. 
"  She  held  him  with  her  glittering  eye,"  I  laughed. 

"  You're  thinner,  Craig."  Her  face  was  sober. 
"  And  there's  really  a  trace — a  tiniest  shadow — of 
gray  over  your  temples." 

"  Hundreds  of  miles  of  tramping  through 
jungles!  Tropic  miasma!  What  little  fighting  I 
saw  in  Sumatra,  too!  War  always  saddens  a  man, 
I  fancy — if  it  doesn't  hopelessly  harden  him." 

"  I — think  it  has  done  both  to  you." 

"  Perhaps  it  has — that  and  other  things." 

"As  for  myself,  I'm  afraid  I'm  like  Falstaff, 
growing  old  and  waxing  fat." 

I  straightened  up  to  express  my  protest.  "  You  ? 
Nonsense!  Nell,  you're  prettier  a  hundred  times 
than  you  were  four  years  ago.  You  were  only  a 
child  then,  and  a  woman  is  always  lovelier  than  a 
child.  That's  an  artist's  axiom." 

"Is  it?" 

"  Certainly.  In  Paris,  the  other  day,  I  saw  the 
picture  that  took  the  Grand  Prix  this  year — a  por- 
trait. I  give  you  my  word  you  might  have  sat 
for  it  yourself — it  gave  me  quite  a  start  when  I 
saw  it.  The  face  had  the  same  delicate  coloring 
as  yours — the  cheeks  just  a  shade  thin,  like  yours. 
And  the  curves  of  the  throat  and  shoulders  melted 
into  each  other  in  the  same  way  yours  do." 


124.  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

"  And  the  hair?  "  she  insinuated  very  demurely. 

"  Oh,  it's  impossible  to  put  the  sheen  of  your 
hair  onto  canvas.  The  picture  was  gloriously  done, 
but,  of  course " 

Her  laughter  interrupted  me,  and  I  sat  back 
against  the  tree  conscious  that  I  had  been  led  to  dis- 
play an  enthusiasm  I  should  have  preferred  to  hide. 

"  I'm  much  obliged  to  you — really  and  truly," 
she  said.  "  I'll  look  at  myself  with  a  little  satis- 
faction in  the  next  mirror  I  come  to.  I  wanted 
something  like  that — from  somebody,  even  if  I  did 
have  to  fish  for  it.  I  need  all  the  self-respect  I  can 
muster." 

A  cricket  marched  into  view  from  its  fortress  in 
a  patch  of  moss  at  Ellen's  heel,  and  climbed  to  the 
toe  of  her  boot.  Thence,  pausing  a  moment  to 
collect  its  powers,  it  leaped  the  mighty  four-inch 
chasm  to  my  foot,  and  so  into  its  mossy  fastness 
again.  Its  paean  of  victory  rang  valiantly  forth 
while  Ellen  gave  me  a  smile  as  merry  as  the  cricket's 
song.  "It  hasn't  a  care  in  the  world."  She  broke  off, 
and  turned  her  head  to  listen. 

"  Did  you  hear  anything?  I'd  quite  forgotten 
that  we  are  supposed  to  be  panting  fugitives." 

"  I  thought  I  heard  a  faint  crashing — perhaps 
not.  *  Gomez '  would  certainly  bay  as  soon  as  he 
found  the  trail  again." 

"  The  bloodhound's  name?  " 

"  Yes.  He's  a  poor  finder,  although  he  follows 
well  enough." 


A  PROPOSAL  IS  MENTIONED        125 

"  You  know  a  deal  about  bloodhounds,  Nell." 

My  words  seemed  to  cause  her  some  confusion. 
She  glanced  at  me  as  if  to  detect  any  hidden  signifi- 
cance in  my  remark.  I  could  see  the  color  creeping 
to  her  cheek. 

"  Where  did  you  learn  your  bloodhound  lore  ?  " 
I  urged. 

"  I've  been  out  with  Aleck  before,  you  know." 
She  hesitated  palpably,  then  went  on.  "  And  Mr. 
Beauchamp  taught  me  a  little,  too." 

"Ah!  Mr.  Beauchamp?" 

"  Yes.  *  Gomez  '  belonged  to  him.  He  sold 
him  to  Aleck  last  spring." 

"  Beauchamp  was  here  last  spring,  was  he  ?  " 
My  tone  was  cold. 

She  felt  the  approaching  rending  of  the  veil 
that  had  thus  far  separated  the  day's  delights 
from  the  hard  facts  of  yesterday.  She  spoke  with 
effort. 

"  Yes." 

"  Staying  at  your  house,  I  suppose?  " 

"  He'd  been  looking  after  his  sugar  plantation, 
you  know,  and  mother  asked  him  to  stop  over  for 
the  week-end  on  his  way  back  from  Havana. 
*  Gomez  '  followed  him  about  like  a  kitten,  and " 

I  rent  the  veil  with  sudden  violence.  "  Nell,  I 
won't  let  you  have  anything  to  do  with  a  scoundrel 
like  Beauchamp." 

She  deliberately  pulled  up  her  left  sleeve  until 
the  red  of  the  Nubian  bracelet  showed  about  her 
wrist. 


126  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

"  I  thought  I  felt  a  pain  coining  here,"  she  said 
flippantly. 

For  a  moment  I  was  amazed — then  I  detected 
the  hint  of  tears  behind  the  flippancy.  "  A  brute 
like  Beauchamp  isn't  fit  for  you  to  put  your  foot 
on." 

"  He  seems — very  agreeable." 

"  Certainly  he  seems  so — if  he  didn't  he  wouldn't 
be  dangerous.  I  wish  I  could  tell  you — things,  but 
one  can't  tell  a  girl — even  for  her  own  good." 

"  Thank  you  for  nothing.  Are  you  aware  that 
you  may  be  spoiling — my  chances  ?  " 

"Very  likely." 

"  Mr.  Beauchamp — is — substantial ;  and,  as  you 
have  proof,  mother  and  I  were  badly  pinched  last 
year — in  stocks.  If  you  keep  him  away " 

"  I  don't  care.  Look  here,  Nell !  I'm  not  going 
to  let  you  have  anything  to  do  with  him  hereafter." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  stay  here  '  hereafter ' — for- 
ever— to  make  sure  your  order  is  obeyed?  " 

"  I'll  stay  long  enough,  I  fancy." 

Her  eyes  widened.     "  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

I  meant  nothing — it  was  a  wholly  chance  shot, 
but  I  smiled  grimly.  "  Never  mind !  " 

She  studied  me,  her  lips  a  little  apart,  a  latent 
fire  in  her  hazel  eyes.  The  sunlight  crept  through 
the  saplings  and  made  golden  lights  in  her  hair. 
As  I  gazed  I  felt  myself  softening — she  looked  like 
an  innocent  and  beautiful  boy. 

The  copse  where  we  sat  concealed  was  separated 


A  PROPOSAL  IS  MENTIONED        127 

from  the  main  grove  by  a  woodland  path.  Reclin- 
ing against  a  tree,  but  screened  by  the  dense  under- 
growth, we  could  see  without  being  seen. 

Into  the  path,  from  the  opposite  side,  suddenly 
broke  a  tremendous  hound. 

Never  in  my  life  had  I  seen  such  a  creature! 
He  stood  as  high  as  Ellen's  waist,  and  must  have 
weighed  a  hundred  and  fifty  pounds.  As  he  snuffed 
up  and  down  the  path,  his  forehead,  profoundly 
wrinkled,  his  hanging  ears  and  dewlapped  muzzle, 
and  his  tawny  skin,  showed  the  best  Cuban  breed. 

"  The  bloodhound,"  I  whispered — quite  need- 
lessly. 

Ellen  nodded,  laying  a  finger  on  her  lip  for 
silence. 

Aleck  Westbrook's  voice  sounded  in  the  grove. 
"  Come  on !  the  dog's  got  away  from  me.  He's 
as  strong  as  a  bull.  He  can't  have  gone  far 
though.  Ah  ha,  here  he  is." 

Aleck  stepped  into  the  path  as  he  spoke,  and 
turned  to  hold  aside  the  bushes  for  a  companion. 

"  Willy  Archer  must  have  gotten  up  his  cour- 
age," I  murmured.  "  He's  stopped  smoking  cigar- 
ettes long  enough  to " 

Ellen's  intent  look  made  the  words  die  on  my 
lips.  The  man  who  entered  the  path  behind  Aleck 
was  Carlos  Beauchamp. 

He  was  a  clean-limbed,  active  man  of  about 
thirty.  His  Spanish  mother — she  to  whom  he  owed 
the  sugar  estates  in  Cuba — showed  in  his  black  hair 


128  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

and  long  nose,  but  his  English  father  had  given 
him  his  blue  eyes  and  fresh-colored  face.  Clad  in 
a  gray  walking  costume,  immaculately  correct,  he 
bounded  into  the  path  beside  Aleck — I  had  to  admit 
to  myself  that  he  made  an  attactive  figure. 

"  Hello !  Sure  enough,  there's  old  *  Gomez  '  now. 
Smell  'em  out,  old  fellow.  No  go,  Westbrook — < 
they've  called  the  turn  on  us  this  time." 

Ellen,  her  finger  still  on  her  lip,  looked  from  our 
pursuers  to  me,  and  back  again.  Her  breast  rose 
slowly. 

"  They  can't  have  flown,"  said  Aleck. 

*'  Oh,  of  course  not.  Let's  get  back  to  the  wall 
and  have  a  try  in  the  other  direction.  We're 
bound  to  pick  'em  up  somewhere.  Here,  old 
fellow." 

He  whistled  to  the  great  hound — it  came  fawnr 
ing  about  him.  All  three  plunged  back  into  the 
grove. 

Ellen  and  I  got  to  our  feet.  For  a  moment 
neither  spoke. 

"  Did  you  know  he  was  here  ?  "  I  asked  at  last. 

"  Yes — since  last  night,  but  I  didn't  dream  he 
would  be  with  Aleck  this  morning — not  after — 
after " 

"  Nell,  are  you  engaged  to  be  married  to  Carlos 
Beauchamp  ?  " 

Her  chin  was  tilted  a  little  forward  in  her  old 
defiant  attitude,  but  she  spoke  hesitantly. 

"  Craig,  I  want  to  tell  you — I'm  trying  to  be 

honest  with  you,  you  see .  You're — master, 

you  say,  so  perhaps  you'll  have  to  know." 


A  PROPOSAL  IS  MENTIONED        129 

"  Out  with  it,  Nell.     I'm  not  going  to  bite  you." 

"  Not  with  your  teeth,  perhaps.  I  wanted  to 
say — Mr.  Beauchamp  is  at  the  Westbrooks'  waiting 
for  my  answer." 

"  Your  answer?  " 

"  My  answer  to  his .  Well,  this  morning  he 

sent  me  a  letter  asking  me  to  marry  him." 

We  eyed  each  other  steadfastly  for  an  instant — 
then  a  single  deep  bay  sounded  in  the  opposite 
wood.  She  whirled  about. 

"  Quick  !     Let's  run  for  it ! " 

Instinctively  I  obeyed. 


XIII 


THE  chase  was  now  on  in  earnest.  I  took  the  lead 
in  half  a  dozen  strides. 

"  Speak,  if  I  go  too  fast,"  I  cried  in  Ellen's 
ear  as  I  sprang  in  front  of  her. 

She  nodded,  the  excitement  of  the  game,  and  the 
fear  of  my  displeasure  struggling  in  her  sidelong 
glance. 

With  her  at  my  heels,  I  broke  through  the  copse 
for  several  rods  in  a  line  parallel  to  the  path. 
Then,  turning  a  corner,  we  sprang  into  the  path 
and  ran  along  it  for  a  hundred  yards  or  more. 
I  conjectured  others — farmers  rabbit-hunting  or 
their  daughters  carrying  milk — might  have  gone 
that  way  earlier  that  morning,  in  which  event  the 
hound  might  confuse  our  scent.  As  we  learned 
afterward,  I  was  right,  and  it  was  this  manoeuvre 
only  that  saved  us  from  being  overhauled  within 
the  next  five  minutes. 

After  running  a  hundred  yards  we  turned  into 
the  woods  again — they  were  more  open  here  and 
we  trotted  briskly  through  them.  Beyond  the 
woods  lay  a  meadow  that  we  crossed  at  top  speed. 
Over  the  shoulder  of  a  hill  we  fell  into  a  trot  along 
a  cow-path. 

All  this  time  the  baying  of  the  hound,  muffled 
130 


THE  BLOODHOUND  131 

first  by  the  woods  and  then  by  the  intervening 
hill-crest,  sounded  behind  us. 

I  glanced  back  at  my  companion.  She  was  run- 
ning easily.  Her  cheeks  were  a  little  flushed,  but 
no  more  than  my  own.  Her  shoulders  and  head 
were  held  well  forward,  her  mouth  closed  without 
effort  and — most  wonderful  in  a  woman! — she  was 
running  on  the  balls  of  her  feet. 

"  I  see  you're  holding  your  own." 

"  Yes.  You  can  go  faster,  if  you  like — I  have 
my  second  wind." 

"  Steady  does  it.  The  dog  has  stopped  again — 
I  can't  hear  him  now." 

"  The  wind  may  be  the  other  way.  Besides, 
sometimes  *  Gomez  '  runs  mute." 

The  cow-path  dipped  down  a  rocky  slope  to  a  little 
valley  where  the  grass  had  withered  to  a  lawn-like 
shortness  in  the  autumn  air.  We  fairly  raced 
along  this  bottom-land  for  a  good  quarter  mile, 
then  we  jog-trotted  up  the  opposite  hill.  On  a 
plateau  beyond  we  dropped  to  a  fast  walk. 

The  weather  was  glorious.  The  sun  was  dis- 
persing the  frosty  net  work  from  the  grass.  The 
sky  domed  blue  as  steel.  All  along  the  tops  of 
distant  ridges  lay  a  shimmering  mist — the  haze  of 
Saint  Martin's  Summer — as  mysterious  as  the 
lights  in  Ellen's  eyes. 

We  were  walking  side  by  side — the  mist  on  the 
mountains,  the  film  in  the  grass,  and  the  lights 
in  her  eyes  were  all  of  the  same  color — and  as  false, 


I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 


I  reflected  ;  one  as  trustworthy  as  the  other  but  no 
more  so. 

The  rushing  wind  had  loosened  a  little  strand  of 
hair  just  over  her  ear.  She  felt  it  and  tucked  it  in 
with  a  quick  turn  of  her  fingers.  Her  wrist,  curv- 
ing against  her  cheek,  showed  again  the  badge  of 
her  servitude. 

Her  breast  rose  and  fell  evenly.  Her  feet,  slim 
and  not  too  short,  held  her  well-poised  body  without 
stumbling.  The  mental  fatigue  that  I  knew  pos- 
sessed her  —  intolerable  fatigue  of  my  presence  — 
had  no  physical  counterpart  in  her  motions.  I 
doubted  if  one  I  had  known  among  the  bamboos  of 
Sumatra  would  have  endured  our  run  as  well  as  this 
twentieth-century  product  of  a  very  different  civil- 
ization. 

A  late  bit  of  golden-rod  peered  from  a  tussock 
of  grass.  I  plucked  it  as  we  passed  and  held  it 
out  to  her.  She  took  it,  smiling  doubtfully. 

"  A  flower  in  your  cap.  A  golden  staff  for  the 
staunchest  runner  I  ever  saw." 

"  Are  you  making  fun  of  me?  " 

"  I  mean  it  —  I  never  saw  a  woman  run  so  well, 
not  even  in  the  East.  I'll  wager  you're  less 
breathed  than  I  am  now." 

"  Thank  you,  sir." 

Beyond  the  plateau  we  struck  a  winding  road 
and,  as  the  country  was  growing  hillier,  we  held  it 
for  a  mile  or  more,  covering  the  ground  at  a  smart 
trot.  We  met  only  one  man  —  a  white-  whiskered 


THE  BLOODHOUND  133 

farmer  driving  a  market  wagon.  He  eyed  us  as  we 
drew  near  as  if  he  thought  us  quite  mad.  I  noticed 
the  plain  bronze  of  the  G.  A.  R.  button  in  the  lapel 
of  his  coat. 

"  If  the  bloodhound  happens  to  strike  the  road 
just  as  he's  passing,"  I  chuckled,  "  the  old  fellow'll 
think  war  times  are  come  again." 

When  we  were  abreast  of  the  horses'  heads,  the 
farmer  pulled  in.  We  stopped  to  answer  his 
friendly  hail. 

"  Say,  you  folks,  what  are  you  up  to?  " 

"  S-sh  !  "  I  returned  dramatically,  "  we're  being 
pursued  by  bloodhounds." 
~ 


"  Bloodhounds  are  on  our  trail." 

"  You  don't  say  ?     You're  f  oolin',  boys." 

"  No,  I  mean  it." 

He  eyed  us,  his  shrewd  glance  resting  on  Ellen. 
He  started,  stared  again,  then  broke  into  a  chuckle. 
He  lifted  his  felt  hat. 

"  'Scuse  me,  ma'am.  I  didn't  see  at  first  you 
was  a  ma'am."  He  chuckled  again,  so  heartily  that 
I  feared  he  would  fall  from  his  seat.  "  Say,  you 
two  folks  is  elopin',  I  reckon  —  eh?  " 

Ellen  blushed,  and  I  laughed  with  the  old  man. 

"  'Scuse  me  sayin'  so,  ma'am,"  he  went  on,  "  but 
you  make  a  mighty  purty  boy  —  you  cert'ny  do  so." 

"  She  certainly  does." 

"  Yes,  o'  course,  you  think  so,"  retorted  the  old 
farmer.  "I  jings!  boy,  if  I  was  forty  years 


134,  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

younger  I'd  git  out  and  run  you  a  few  miles  myself. 
You  folks  from  Bannocks,  I  reckon — eh?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  There  ain't  nothin'  you  ain't  up  to  down  there. 
Say,  they  ain't  after  you  with  bloodhoun's  sure 
enough  ?  " 

"  Yes — with  one  bloodhound,  sure  enough." 

"Where?" 

"  Down  the  road  a  mile  or  so." 

"  I  jings !  I  ain't  seen  a  bloodhoun'  since  I  got 
away  from  Andersonville  in  '63.  G'long  there ! " 
He  clucked  to  his  horses.  "  Good-momin',  ma'am. 
I  want  to  see  that  houn',  sure."  His  last  words 
floated  back  half  smothered  by  his  hearty  chuckle. 
"  A  mighty  purty  boy  she  makes — eh?  " 

We  ran  on  down  the  road  for  another  half  mile. 
Then  I  noticed  a  path  issuing  from  a  gully  almost 
hidden  by  a  dense  growth  of  laurel.  Up  this  we 
went  for  a  furlong  or  more,  following  the  bank  of 
a  little  stream. 

A  rocky  bluff  split  the  gully  abruptly  into  two 
parts.  The  path  went  straight  up  the  dividing 
hill.  Right  and  left,  a  branch  of  the  main  stream 
came  tinkling  down  toward  us.  Over  each  branch 
the  tangled  laurel  made  a  tunnel. 

"  Are  you  game  for  a  wade,  Eliza?  " 

"  Of  course." 

"  It'll  mean  wet  boots  and  stockings,  you  know." 

For  answer,  she  leaped  fair  into  the  left  hand 
stream.  A  tiny  shower  was  thrown  up  about  her. 


THE  BLOODHOUND  135 

Standing  mid-calf  deep  in  the  tinkling  brown  water, 
she  looked  up  at  me  roguishly. 

"  Come  on  !  Are  you  afraid,  Uncle  Tom?  There 
isn't  any  ice." 

I  was  beside  her  at  the  word,  though  with  caution 
lest  I  should  splash  her. 

Stooping  beneath  the  overhanging  laurel,  we 
began  to  ascend  the  stream,  moving  in  a  half  twi- 
light. From  the  country  road,  came  the  deep 
baying  of  the  bloodhound — my  mind  dwelt  on  Car- 
los Beauchamp  and  his  abominally  good  form. 

Ellen  stumbled  and  I  caught  her  arm.  "  Shall 
we  climb  out,  Nell?  The  water's  rather  deep  for 
you." 

"  No.  I'm  all  right.  *  Water  leaves  no  trail ' — 
Legree  will " 

"  The  two  Legrees." 

"  Yes.     They'll  never  catch  us  now." 

I  still  held  her  arm.  My  grip  must  have  re- 
minded her  of  my  dominance  over  her,  for  she 
twitched  away  with  evident  resentment. 

"  I  didn't  mean  to  hurt  you." 

"  No — you  simply  can't  help  it,  I  suppose." 

"  Perhaps  not."  My  tone  had  a  sadness  that  she 
may  have  taken  for  indifference. 

The  brown  water  sang  about  our  feet.  A  black- 
bird called  sweetly  from  a  patch  of  cat-tails.  We 
waded  side  by  side,  now  shadowed  by  the  overhang- 
ing thicket,  now  speckled  by  the  sunshine  filtering 
through. 


136  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

Suddenly  she  flared  out  at  me.  "  I'll  marry 
whom  I  like." 

I  was  taken  aback,  and  only  stared. 

'*  I'll  marry  Carlos  Beauchamp,  if  I  like,"  she 
went  on  hotly.  "  My  husband  will  protect  me — 
yes,  even  from  you." 

"  He'll  protect  you  from  everyone  except  him- 
self." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  When  a  woman  marries  she  gives  everything 
but  her  soul,  you  know — and  sometimes  that,  if 
she  marries  the  wrong  man." 

"  Mr.  Beauchamp  is  a  gentleman." 

"  Externally,  yes." 

"  I'll  marry  him,  if  I  wish." 

"  I  suppose  by  marrying  Beauchamp,  you  are 
defying  me  to  do  my  worst." 

"  You  may  put  it  that  way,  if  you  like.  What 
will  you  do  ? — turn  me  over  to  the  Law  ?  " 

"  No.  If  you  marry  Beauchamp,  you'll  be  pun- 
ished enough,  Nell — too  much." 

My  gravity,  my  certitude,  impressed  her.  She 
stood  stock-still  and  stared  at  me,  the  water  rip- 
pling against  her  little  black  boots.  We  would 
have  made  a  strange  picture  for  an  onlooker. 

"  Why  shouldn't  I  be  punished?  "  she  said.  "  I'm 
a — a  thief." 

"  I've  never  said  so." 

"  A  forger,  then — that's  the  same  thing,  or 
worse.  If  I  suffer  by  my  marriage,  won't  it  be 
only  what  I  deserve  ?  " 


THE  BLOODHOUND  137 

"  I  hate  to  think  so." 

"  But  you  do  think  so." 

"  I  don't  think  you  deserve  a  man  like  him." 

"  What  do  you  know  against  Mr.  Beauchamp  ?  " 

"  I  can't  tell  you  what  I  know — but  I  know  a 
brute  when  I  see  him." 

"Oh!" 

"  I'm  truly  sorry  you're  going  to  marry  Beau- 
champ,  Nell.  But  what  must  be,  must  be!  Shall 
we  move  on  ?  " 

She  held  her  ground.  "  I  didn't  say  I  intended 
to  marry  him.  I  never  said  so." 

"  But  you  said " 

"  I  said  I  will  if  I  like,  but  I  certainly  don't 
like." 

"What!" 

"  He's  been  coming  to  '  Red  Cedars '  for  two  or 
three  years.  I'm  glad  he's  asked  me  at  last — any 
woman  would  want  that,  for  her  own  self-respect. 
But  I  sent  back  his  messenger  this  morning — 
promptly — declining  the  honor  of  becoming  his 
wife." 

"You  did?" 

"  Yes,  I  did.  I've  never  liked  him — much.  I 
wrote  him  *  no  '  this  morning — before  you  were  up. 
That's  the  reason  I  was  so  surprised  to  see  him 
on  our  trail  with  Aleck.  One  would  think  a  man 
— a  man  who " 

"A  man  who  has  just  been  rejected." 

"  Well,  yes.  One  would  think  he  wouldn't  care 
about  thrusting  himself  in  on — on " 


138  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

"  On  the  girl  who'd  just  rejected  him,"  I  finished. 
"  Nell,  will  you  shake  hands  ?  " 

The  red  crept  slowly  into  her  cheeks.  "  Shake 
hands?  Why?" 

"  In  token  of  my  approval  of  your  conduct." 

"  No.  Your  approval  is  nothing  to  me,  is  it?" 
She  resumed  her  wading. 

There  seemed  to  be  nothing  for  me  to  do  but  to 
follow  her  example. 

By  this  time,  the  slope  of  the  hill  was  steadily 
increasing,  and  both  the  undergrowth  and  the 
stream  grew  thinner  and  thinner.  After  a  little 
we  came  to  the  beginning  of  things — a  pool  no 
bigger  than  a  dinner  table,  and  an  oak  growing 
over  this  nest  of  springs.  The  one  made  a  varie- 
gated reflection  in  the  other. 

We  climbed  out  of  the  stream's  bed,  and  shook 
the  "  dust  of  the  water,"  as  Ellen  expressed  it, 
from  our  dripping  feet. 

"  I  believe  we've  thrown  off  the  dog  for  good,"  I 
said.  "  If  he  can  track  us  up  half  a  mile  of  moun- 
tain burn,  he  deserves  to  get  us.  Nell,  I'm  almost 
sorry  I  dared  you  into  this.  You  look  rather  wet — 
I  hope  you  don't  catch  cold." 

"  No-o." 

"Do  you  feel  cold?" 

"  No.     A  little,  perhaps." 

I  consulted  my  watch,  and  then  the  sun.  *'  It's 
nearly  noon — that's  north — and  we're  within  half  a 
mile  of  a  chance  to  get  dry — yes,  and  of  apple-pie, 
with  cream." 


THE  BLOODHOUND  139 

Ellen  started.     "  Apple-pie?  " 

"Yes.  Don't  you  know  where  you  are?  That 
down  up  there  looks  familiar  even  to  me." 

She  stared  about  her,  paling.  "  Well?  "  she  said 
at  last. 

"  Half  a  mile  from  Mary  Finney's  cottage." 

"  Why  have  you  brought  me — why  have  we  come 
here?" 

"  For  some  of  Mary's  pie.  Besides  you  ought  to 
get  on  some  dry  things  as  soon  as  you  can — I  can 
see  you're  shivering."  She  was  shivering,  but  I 
thought  it  was  not  from  cold. 

"  But " 

"  Come  on.  I  fairly  yearn  for  some  of  that 
apple-pie — with  cream." 

"  Oh,  of  course,  with  cream,"  she  echoed,  faintly- 
satirical. 

We  gained  the  top  of  the  down,  and  followed 
along  the  edge  of  a  gully  that  led  toward  the  river 
gorge  in  the  distance.  Mary  Finney's  cottage 
peered  from  its  perch  among  the  apple-trees  above 
the  river. 

"  I  should  think  Miss  Finney  would  be  afraid  to 
live  there  alone.  It's  a  good  distance  to  the  village. 
Somebody  might  annoy  her — a  tramp  or  " — I  spoke 
deliberately — "  or  a  sneak-thief.  It  wouldn't  be 
pleasant  if  she  woke  up  and  found  someone  plun- 
dering her  wardrobe." 

Ellen  shivered  again — the  wind  blew  a  bit  stiffly. 
"  I  don't  think— she's  afraid." 


140  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

We  held  our  course  along  the  gully.  On  our 
side  was  only  the  down,  bare  save  for  the  crisp, 
autumn-nipped  grass;  on  the  other,  a  forest  of 
second-growth  hemlock  and  pine  grew  to  the  edge 
of  the  cliff. 

I  stopped  and  peered  down  into  this  ravine. 
Forty  feet  below  a  stream,  similar  to  the  one  we 
had  just  been  wading,  hurried  to  join  the  river  in 
the  gorge. 

I  heard  a  sound  behind  me,  and  turned  about 
sharply.  "  Nell,  you  are  cold.  You're  getting  a 
chill." 

"  I— I  think  not." 

"  You  surely  are,  child.  Let's  get  to  Mary  Fin- 
ney's  and  there  you  can " 

She  was  looking  at  me,  smiling  bravely  and  try- 
ing to  keep  her  teeth  from  chattering.  Suddenly 
she  gave  a  little  scream. 

"  Oh,  Craig !     Look !     Behind  you !  " 

Even  as  I  wheeled,  I  heard  the  deep  bay  of  the 
bloodhound. 

The  great  dog,  "  Gomez,"  was  coming  along  the 
brink  of  the  gully  at  a  swift  lope.  His  nose  was 
well  up  as  if  the  scent  were  too  hot  to  doubt. 
Now  and  then  he  bayed  profoundly. 

"  He  looks  as  big  as  a  mountain.  A  regular 
rhinoceros !  I've  a  strong  inclination  to  climb  a 
tree,  only  there  isn't  any  on  this  side." 

"  No,"  she  laughed,  although  the  excitement  of 
the  situation  showed  in  her  eyes.  "  Shall  we  run  ?  " 


THE  BLOODHOUND  141 

"  I  fancy  it's  too  late — he'll  see  us  in  a  minute." 

"  Isn't  it  thrilling !  When  one  thinks  what  that 
enormous  creature  could  do " 

"WhatwiZZhedo?" 

"  He  usually  stops  and  gambols  about — or  fawns 
like  a  puppy." 

The  tawny  head  and  chest,  the  dewlapped  muzzle 
and  wrinkled  forehead,  were  now  within  a  few  yards 
of  us.  As  "  Gomez  "  threw  up  his  head  to  bay, 
he  caught  sight  of  us. 

Planting  one  lion-like  paw  in  front,  he  brought 
himself  to  a  halt.  For  a  moment  he  eyed  us, 
amiably  enough — Ellen  and  I  were  already  advanc- 
ing with  outstretched  hands  to  make  his  acquaint- 
ance, when  a  singular  interruption  occurred. 

As  I  have  said,  the  other  side  of  the  gully  was  a 
mere  wilderness  of  hemlock  and  pine.  Thence  a 
peculiar  noise  sounded — the  crack  of  a  rotten  twig, 
the  cry  of  a  wild  bird,  the  flat  note  of  a  human 
voice. 

"  Gomez  "  had  been  striding  grandly  toward  us 
as  if  willing  to  meet  our  "  good  dogs  "  and  "  here, 
old  fellows,"  half  way. 

Now,  coincident  with  the  peculiar  sound,  his  man- 
ner underwent  an  appalling  change.  He  gave 
a  thrilling  bay,  the  lips  fell  away  from  the  muzzle, 
disclosing  a  frightful  array  of  fangs — before  I 
could  believe  my  horrified  senses,  he  took  one  tre- 
mendous stride  and  leaped  at  Ellen. 

One  instant  she  was  down.     The  next  I  had  the 


I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 


dog  furiously  by  the  throat  and  had  whirled  him 
clear. 

He  rose  on  his  hind-legs  to  meet  my  attack,  his 
dripping  muzzle  on  a  level  with  my  eyes.  He 
snapped  at  me  as  my  fingers  worked  for  a  hold 
through  his  folds  of  skin  —  an  inch  farther  and  I 
would  have  had  no  face.  His  enormous  paws 
weighed  like  lead  on  my  shoulder  as  he  wrestled 
with  me  like  a  man.  We  were  both  growling  —  I  as 
much  of  a  beast  as  he  —  both  furious,  both  raving. 

Through  the  red  mist  of  the  struggle  a  voice 
sounded,  very  far  away. 

"Craig!     The  cliff!" 

I  understood  —  the  gully  yawned  behind  me.  With 
what  strength  and  resolution  I  had  left  I  stood 
fast  within  six  inches  of  the  brink.  Then  inch 
by  inch  I  swung  the  great  dog's  head  and  shoulders 
to  the  right.  I  flung  him  from  me. 

He  fell  grandly,  without  a  struggle  or  a  sound, 
to  the  rocks  below. 

Ellen  stood  beside  me.  "  Nell  "  —  I  did  my  best 
to  repress  my  heavy  breathing,  —  "  are  you  hurt  ?  " 

She  was  very  pale  and  trembling  excessively,  but 
she  shook  her  head.  "  No  —  he  only  struck  me  with 
his  paw.  I  was  hardly  down  before  you  dragged 
him  off.  But,  Craig,  it  was  frightful  to  see  you 
and  -  " 

"  I  always  feel  ashamed  of  myself  after  a  row, 
Nell.  I'm  afraid  I'm  a  real  savage  at  bottom." 

"  I  didn't  mean  that.     Craig,  you  saved  -  " 


THE  BLOODHOUND  143 

Her  voice  died  away  and  she  stared  fixedly  across 
the  narrow  gully. 

"  Don't  think  of  it,  Nell.  I'm  mighty  glad  you 
aren't  hurt.  It's  all  over  now." 

She  turned  toward  me.  Her  face  was  slow  in 
regaining  its  color.  "  *  Gomez  ' — do  you  suppose 
it  killed  him?" 

A  mournful  bay  reassured  us.  In  a  bush  at  the 
bottom  of  the  gully  the  late-ferocious  bloodhound 
struggled  and  bayed  disconsolately. 

I  could  not  help  laughing.  "  He's  all  right. 
Aleck  will  be  along  pretty  soon — no  doubt  he'll  get 
him  out  somehow."  I  dusted  my  hands  on  the  sides 
of  my  coat.  "  Now,  Nell,  what  do  you  say  ?  Let's 
get  to  Mary  Finney's.  Now  for  apple-pie." 

"  With  cream,"  she  said  a  little  hysterically. 


XIV 

THE  PKINCESS  LETS  DOWN  HER  HAIR 

WHEN  Mary  Finney  opened  her  cottage  door 
to  my  peremptory  knock,  her  face  turned  even 
paler  at  sight  of  me  than  it  had  the  night  before. 

"  Mr.  Schuyler ! "  Her  glance  shifted  to  my 
companion.  "  Ellen !  " 

I  did  not  give  her  time  to  voice  her  fear,  what- 
ever it  may  have  been. 

"  Good-morning,"  I  said  breezily,  half  support- 
ing Ellen  into  the  room.  "  Here  we  are,  Miss 
Finney — two  weary  wanderers.  Miss  Sutphen  has 
gotten  rather  wet  and  needs  some  dry  things — 
yes,  and  a  warm  fire." 

The  girl  looked  eagerly  at  Ellen  who  was  stoutly 
endeavoring  to  still  her  chattering  teeth.  "  I've 
a  good  fire  in  the  kitchen.  Why,  Ellen,  you've  got 
a  real  chill,  surely.  Poor  dear!  And  your  feet 
are  that  wet !  How  in  the  world  ?  n 

"  We  were  running  across  country  from  Mr. 
Aleck  Westbrook's  bloodhound,"  I  explained. 

"  Oh !  Come  right  out  to  the  kitchen,  Ellen, 
and  sit  right  down  by  the  stove — it's  nice  and  warm 
out  there.  I'll  give  you  some  dry  clothes  and  make 
you  a  fine  hot  cup  of  tea.  Poor  dear !  " 

"  I  don't  feel  the  least  bit  badly,"  insisted  Ellen 
as  Mary  led  her  away,  "  but  it  is  rather  nice  to 
be  fussed  over." 

144 


THE  PRINCESS'S  HAIR  145 

I  found  myself  gazing  at  the  closed  door  of  the 
kitchen,  whence  not  even  the  voices  of  the  two  girls 
reached  me.  It  was  not  for  me  to  intrude  on  the 
mystery  of  "  dry  clothes."  For  a  moment  I  felt 
a  bit  disconsolate. 

Then  the  experience  of  an  old  campaigner  came 
to  my  rescue.  Taking  in  the  situation  at  a  glance, 
I  made  a  foray  on  the  little  table  and  the  shelves 
behind  it.  Results :  one  delicious  apple-pie,  not  ten 
minutes  from  the  oven;  one  pint  of  cream  in  a 
yellow  crock ;  item — a  paper  bag  half  full  of  pow- 
dered sugar ;  item — one  pewter  tablespoon. 

Equipped  with  these  fruits  of  my  raid, I  was  look- 
ing about  for  the  best  place  in  which  to  begin  an 
onslaught  on  the  same,  when  Mary  opened  the 
kitchen  door  a  few  inches. 

"  Mr.  Schuyler." 

I  whirled  at  the  word  and  involuntarily  tried  to 
conceal  my  loot  behind  me.  "  Miss  Finney " 

Notwithstanding  her  aversion  toward  me,  the 
shadow  of  a  smile  flickered  in  her  eyes  at  my  school- 
boy fright. 

"  Mr.  Schuyler,  Miss  Sutphen  will  be  ready  in  a 
few  minutes.  She  says  you're  as  wet  as  she  is  and 
must  change  your  clothes  too,  and " 

"Change?"  I  laughed.  "You'd  have  a  hard 
time  fitting  me  out  in  this  house,  wouldn't  you?" 

"  No,  sir.  Oh — ah  !  "  She  stopped  in  embar- 
rassment, and  blushed  faintly.  "  I  think  I  could 

find — find  an  old  pair  of — of -" 

10 


146  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

I  came  to  her  relief.  "  I  don't  need  a  change. 
I'm  nearly  dry  now — I'll  finish  off  by  the  kitchen 
stove  when  Miss  Sutphen  is  out  of  the  way.  You're 
putting  her  to  bed,  aren't  you?  " 

"  No,  indeed,  she  isn't,"  called  Ellen's  voice 
within.  "  What  an  idea !  I'm  not  such  a  baby  as 
that,  Craig.  Wait  a  minute.  Mary,  Mary — come 
here,  will  you?  " 

The  girl  hurried  to  her,  luckily  leaving  the  door 
an  inch  or  two  ajar.  I  could  hear  their  voices. 

There  were  murmurs,  interspersed  with  much  soft 
laughter  and  the  noise  of  scraping  chair  and  table- 
legs.  Snatches  of  sentences  came  to  my  ears: 
"  Tuck  it  in  carefully,  Mary  " — "  now,  you  see,  the 
screen'll  go  all  across  " — "  a  man  never  notices 
things  anyway  " — "  you  certainly  do  look  pretty 
Ellen  " — "  now  I'm  all  ready."  And  then  in  a  hor- 
rified whisper :  "  Mary,  Mary,  come  back !  I  know 
one  of  my  toes  is  peeking." 

The  obstinate  member  must  have  been  satisfac- 
torily disposed  of,  for  after  a  brief  interval  Mary 
opened  the  door  and  invited  me  to  enter.  I  did 
so,  pie  and  all.  Ellen  hailed  me  merrily. 

"  Ah  ha,  naughty  boy !  You've  been  in  the  j  am- 
pot." 

"  Sweets  to  the  sweet." 

"  Egotist ! " 

"  No,  altruist !     I'm  bringing  pie  and  sugar  to 

you." 

"  Schuyler  was  a  Welshman, 
Schuyler  was  a  thief," 


THE  PRINCESS'S  HAIR  147 

She  chanted.     I  broke  in: 

"  Schuyler   brought   an   apple-pie 
To  soothe  sweet  Ellen's  grief." 

The  kitchen  was  the  real  living-room  of  the  house 
— a  room  in  which  everything  sparkled  with  clean- 
liness in  genuine  New  England  fashion.  Ellen  sat 
in  a  rocking-chair  at  a  table  close  to  the  stove. 
She  was  wrapped  from  feet  to  waist  in  a  rose- 
colored  "  down "  quilt  that  effectually  concealed 
any  toe  that  might  have  been  inclined  to  "  peek." 

Her  cap  had  been  removed — the  braids  of  her 
hair  were  as  smooth  as  Mary  Finney's  own.  Her 
teeth  had  ceased  to  chatter,  and  the  color  had 
crept  back  to  her  cheeks.  Her  fingers  were  drum- 
ming a  gay  little  tune  on  the  table. 

On  the  other  side  of  the  stove  a  screen,  placed  at 
a  crafty  angle,  concealed  whatever  may  have  been 
hung  on  the  clothes-rack  behind. 

"Are  you  feeling  better,  Nell?" 

"  Fine.  It  was  silly  of  me  to  get  a  chill.  Don't 
you  want  to  shift  your  tilings,  really?  " 

"  No.  They'll  dry  on  me  perfectly  well.  It's 
too  much  trouble  besides.  I'll  just  put  my  plunder 
on  the  table  and Hello !  the  table's  set !  " 

She  laughed  at  my  shout  of  discovery.  "  Yes. 
Was  there  ever  a  man  in  this  world  who  didn't  cheer 
at  the  sight  of  food?  That's  your  place  there. 
There's  the  tea  in  the  pot,  but  Mary  says  she 
hasn't  another  thing  in  the  house.  She's  going 
down  to  the  village  now  to  get  something." 


148  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

"  I  can't  wait."  I  sank  into  my  seat.  "  Let's 
see  what's  in  my  lunch-pouch — Dirck  usually  shines 
in  a  case  like  this."  I  turned  toward  the  door. 

"  Miss  Finney,  please  don't  bother  about Hello ! 

she's  gone." 

"  Yes — she's  probably  halfway  down  the  hill  by 
this  time." 

"  Well,  then,  we'll  open  Pandora's  box." 

"  All  the  troubles  are  already  out,"  she  said 
with  a  little  sigh.  "  Even  Hope  isn't  left." 

"  Nell,  I  admit  I'm  revengeful,  but  let  it  all  go 
— for  this  afternoon.  Hope  is  in  the  box — Hope 
in  the  way  of  deviled  eggs  " — I  produced  them 
as  I  spoke — "  lettuce-sandwiches,  cold  chicken, 
and — what's  this  in  this  thermos-bottle?  Ah,  pip- 
ing-hot chocolate !  Now,  do  you  recognize  Hope 
when  you  see  her?  " 

"  Yes.  Everything  looks  simply  delicious, 
doesn't  it?  And  don't  forget  the  tea,  too,  Craig. 
Don't  burn  yourself." 

"  Never  fear."  I  swept  the  teapot  from  the 
stove  and  poured  Ellen  a  cup  with  a  skill  that  made 
her  clap  her  hands  in  mock  admiration.  "  Do  you 
prefer  tea  to  chocolate?  The  thermos  has  held  it 
just  as  hot,  you  know.  Well,  then,  here's  to  you, 
Nell,  and  may  you  never  be  attacked  by  another 
bloodhound." 

She  sipped  her  tea  in  acknowledgment  of  my 
toast.  Her  eyes  were  full  of  hazel  lights,  lights 
that  dimmed  a  little  as  the  grateful  tea  warme^ 
her  body  and  made  her  a  wee  bit  drowsy. 


THE  PRINCESS'S  HAIR  149 

"  The  bloodhound,  ugh !  What  do  you  suppose 
made  him  fly  at  us  so  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  don't  know — natural  bloodhoundishness,  per- 
haps— unless  it  was  that  odd  sound  from  the 
woods." 

"Did  you  hear  that,  too?" 

"  Yes.  It  seemed  to  drive  him  quite  wild,  didn't 
it?  I  never  saw  such  automatic  action  in  my  life. 
From  his  eyes  I  thought  he  meant  to  attack  me — 
I  was  the  stranger  and  he  naturally  would  go  for 
me — but  you  were  a  step  nearer  and  perhaps  he 
confused  us." 

"  What  sort  of  noise  did  it  seem  to  you?  " 

"  All  sorts — any  sort.  A  breaking  tree-limb, 
perhaps,  as  much  as  anything.  Possibly  a  plough- 
boy  happened  to  call  at  his  horse  on  the  other 
side  of  that  strip  of  woods." 

When  we  had  finished  the  deviled  eggs  and 
chicken,  I  moved  the  table  away.  Then  I  turned 
Ellen,  chair  and  all,  until  she  faced  the  fire,  manag- 
ing to  do  so  without  disturbing  the  delicate 
arrangement  of  the  rose  quilt.  I  raked  down  the 
stove  until  the  red  coals  winked  between  the  grate- 
bars.  Then  I  moved  my  chair  beside  hers. 

She  had  watched  all  my  motions  with  quiet 
amusement.  "  *  You're  a'  'andy  man  to  'ave  about 
the  'ouse.'" 

"  Am  I  not?  Dirck  and  I  used  to  keep  house  in 
Sumatra — keep  bungalow  rather.  That's  a  good 
deal  easier,  I  admit.  I  learned  to  do  things  almost 
as  well  as  Dirck." 


150  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

"  He's  a  very  intelligent  man,  isn't  he?  I  don't 
think  he's  at  all  servant-like." 

"  I  hope  he  hasn't  been  impertinent  in  any  way." 

"  Oh,  no,  not  in  the  least.  He  has  a  rather 
attractive  way  about  him,  I  think.  What  I  mean 
is — he  looks  at  one  quite  frankly,  as  if  he  were 
an  equal,  but  not  at  all  impertinently." 

"  Dirck  does  respect  himself  profoundly,  there's 
no  doubt  about  that — in  fact,  he  has  a  distinctly 
good  opinion  of  himself.  I  don't  mind  it,  though 
— I  hate  cringing." 

"  So  do  I.  His  face  reminds  me  of  one  of  those 
in  Meissonier's  battle  pictures — the  Guards'  faces, 
you  know — self-possessed  and  haughty-looking." 

She  propped  both  elbows  on  one  arm  of  the 
rocker  and,  putting  her  hands  together,  leaned  her 
cheek  against  them.  The  firelight  threw  quaint 
patterns  on  the  rose  quilt. 

It  was  a  moment  of  lassitude,  even  of  weakness, 
for  both  of  us.  Her  lashes  swept  her  cheek  as  her 
eyes  fell  before  the  softening  light  in  mine.  In 
spite  of  myself  I  felt  a  dryness  come  into  my  throat 
and  a  pulse  beat  heavily  there.  My  hand  shook  as 
I  affected  to  smooth  a  wrinkle  of  my  coat. 

"  You  look  like  a  little  girl." 

She  smiled  dreamily.  "  Do  I?  I  feel  like  one — 
almost — like  the  little  girl  in  a  fairy  story." 

"  The  be-yew-tiful  princess  captured  by  the 
ogre." 

"  Not  such  a  bad   ogre — always." 


THE  PRINCESS'S  HAIR  151 

"  The  ogre's  glad  he  isn't  utterly  hateful.  Yes, 
you're  the  beautiful  golden-haired  princess  lost  in 
the  wood — in  a  dark  and  dismal  Dore  wood — and 
beguiled  by  the  ogre  to  his  castle.  Do  you  remember 
the  cry  of  the  rescuing  prince :  *  Rappunzel,  Rap- 
punzel,  let  down  your  hair  '  ?  " 

"Yes,  that  was  it." 

"  Well — will  the  princess  do  it  ?  " 

"Doit?     What?     O-oh,  you  mean " 

"  Yes.  Will  the  princess  let  down  her  hair — 
please?  " 

"  Really— Craig?  " 

"  Do ! " 

"  You  funny  man.     What  a  thing  to  ask !  " 

"  Please !  "  I  urged  again. 

She  gave  me  a  shy  glance  then,  sweetly  sub- 
missive, busied  herself  with  the  braids  of  her  hair. 
In  a  moment  a  shining  mass  fell  all  about  her. 

I  held  back  my  eager  hands.  Her  hair,  as 
smooth  and  bright  as  the  skin  of  an  October  chest- 
nut, went  shimmering  to  the  rose  quilt.  Little 
lights  and  sparkles  played  over  it.  Fays  danced  on 
moonlit  lawns;  thrushes  peered  between  fallen 
leaves;  stars  glimmered  in  the  dusk  of  a  winter 
twilight. 

"  Lovely,"  I  said  in  a  hushed  voice.  "  It's  lovely, 
Nell." 

Her  answering  smile  was  as  wistful  and  kind  as 
that  of  a  pleased  child. 

"  You  know  I've  never  seen  it — that  way — be- 


152  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

fore.  I've  often  wished  I  might  see  you — like  this. 
I  knew  it — you — would  be  charming.  I  think  I've 
never  told  you  I  once  wrote  some  verses  about  your 
hair,  long  ago: 

"'Oh,  to  be  swung  'twixt  the  envying  stars, 
In  the  folds  of  her  glorious  hair ! '  " 

"  The  prince  is  satisfied  then  ?  " 

I  leaned  forward,  staring  at  her.  "  Nell,  you 
and  I  oughtn't  to  be  enemies.  There's  something 
unnatural,  something  monstrous,  about  our  treat- 
ing each  other  so." 

"  I'm  glad  if  you're  beginning  to  feel  that — at 
last." 

"  I've  felt  it  all  along.  Is  it  too  late  to  be 
friends  again  ?  " 

Her  hand  pressed  her  cheek.  "  Craig,  if  you 
really  think — if  you're  sure  that  what's  hapj 
pened " 

"  The  flood  of  your  hair  can  sweep  away — what's 
happened.  I  don't  know  that  anything  in  the  world 
matters  but  beauty — your  loveliness." 

My  hands  had  taken  the  strands  of  her  hair,  very 
reverently,  and  had  pressed  them  back  until  her 
face  was  clear  before  me,  small,  rosy,  appealing. 

"  Nell,"  I  said  huskily. 

The  sense  of  profound  intimacy  induced  by  her 
loosened  hair,  the  influence  of  our  reawakened  emo- 
tions, had  brought  our  physical  powers  of  resist- 
ance, perhaps  our  moral  as  well,  perilously  near 


THE  PRINCESS'S  HAIR  153 

the  breaking-point.  There  is  a  temptation  in 
physical  contact  beyond  the  will  and  inclination, 
beyond  all  the  strength  of  reason. 

A  slow  tremor  went  through  her  body — my 
hands  shook  as  they  slipped  from  her  hair  to  her 
shoulders — I  leaned  slowly  toward  her. 

As  if  awakening  from  a  dream,  she  shrank  from 
my  outstretched  arms.  She  laughed  uncertainly, 
yet  with  evident  determination  to  thrust  back  her- 
self as  well  as  me  to  a  normal  plane. 

"  What  a  pair  of  actors  we  are ! "  she  said. 

I  could  only  nod.  Her  fingers  were  again  busied 
with  her  hair,  I  watching  her  silently,  until  it  had 
been  made  to  resume  its  usual  place  and  fashion. 

I  made  a  gesture.    "  I  hate  to  see  it  go  back." 

"  But— it  must." 

That  she  might  not  read  my  thoughts  my  eyes 
went  quickly  from  her  to  the  fire. 


XV 

WE  TALK  OF  SUMATRA 

AFTEB,  a  long  while  Ellen  spoke,  studied  indiffer- 
ence in  her  tone. 

"  Craig,  you  said  something  about  Sumatra, 
while  we  were  running  through  the  woods — tell  me 
about  it." 

"  That's  a  large  order.  Sumatra  is  quite  a  siza- 
ble island."  A  certain  earnestness  behind  the 
dreamy  lights  in  her  eyes  caught  my  attention. 
"  Anything  in  particular  about  Sumatra,  Nell  ?  " 

"  About  your  keeping  house  there." 

"  Well,  Dirck  and  I  kept  house  together.  You 
see,  out  there,  he  and  I  were  nearer  friends  than 
we  were  master  and  servant." 

"  Just  you  two  ?  " 

"  Just  ourselves  and  Mina.  I  made  a  song  about 
her."  I  hummed  a  verse: 

"  Don't  you  mind  the  honey-bear 

Little  Mina  used  to  drill — 
The  parrot  that  we  taught  to  swear, 

In  the  hut  on  Landak  hill? 
Mina,  too,  I  wonder  where 

Now  she  keeps  her  bungalow. 
Has  she  still  the  honey-bear? 

Let's  go  back  to  Borneo ! " 

"  I  had  to  say  *  Borneo,'  instead  of  *  Sumatra,'  for 
the  sake  of  the  rhyme." 

154 


WE  TALK  OF  SUMATRA  155 

"Who  was  Mina?" 

"  Mina?  She  was  a  native  Sumatran — an  Achi- 
nese,  you  know." 

"  It's  a  pretty  name — was  she  pretty  ?  " 

"  Heavens !  no.  As  ugly  as  sin !  She  looked 
about  like  one  of  those  awful  little  images  they  put 
at  one's  place  for  a  dinner  favor.  She  was  about 
forty  years  old,  too — that  corresponds  to  sixty  or 
seventy  here." 

"  Was  it  Mina  whose  daughter  was  so  charm- 
ing?  '• 

"  Mina's  daughter? "  Suddenly  a  light  broke 
upon  me.  "  What  are  you  driving  at,  Nell?  Have 
you  heard  some  of  the  fool  yarns  about  me?  " 

She  nodded  without  lifting  her  eyes  from  the 
coals  that  winked  between  the  grate-bars — I  could 
not  tell  whether  her  listlessness  were  real  or  affected. 

"  Are  they  fool  yarns,  Craig?  " 

"  Certainly.  At  least — they — the  conclusions 
people  always  come  to  are  fool  ones."  I  knew  my 
own  conclusion  was  lame. 

"  I  see."  She  was  silent  a  moment.  "  No,  I 
think  I  don't  see." 

She  lifted  her  cheek  from  her  folded  hands  and 
regarded  me  deprecatingly.  "  Would  you  mind — 
please,  don't  be  angry,  Craig.  People  say  such 
nasty  things  sometimes.  We've  heard  something 
about  you — about  you  and  a  Sumatran  beauty — 
a  princess  or  duchess  who " 

"  I  know.     That   story   was   spread  by   a   con- 


156  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

temptible  German  trader  I  drove  out  of  my  district 
for — well,  for  trying  to  buy  up  girls  for  the  Sul- 
tan of  Brunei.  That's  what  that  silly  ass,  Archer, 
was  referring  to  last  night,  I  suppose.  He  was 
urging  me  to  tell  him  a  Sumatran  Nights'  Adven- 
ture. Confound  his  drivelling  mind !  " 

"  Craig — I'd  like  to  hear  the  truth  about  it — 
one  way  or  the  other.  Are  you  angry  ?  " 

"  No,  no.  I'll  tell  you.  I'd  like  you  to  know 
about  Tawa,  Nell." 

"  Tawa.     Was  that  her  name  ?  " 

"  Yes.  She  was  a  datu's  daughter — about  what 
you  would  call  a  native  princess.  You  won't 
think  me  a  cad?  It's  not  a  thing  I'd  care  to  tell 
most  people." 

"  Please  go  on." 

"  It's  not  a  very  long  tale.  I'll  skip  the  hows 
and  the  wherefores  as  much  as  I  can." 

"  I'd  like  to  hear  everything." 

"  The  Datu  of  Larang — Medac  was  his  name — 
had  a  big  bamboo  stockade  on  the  river.  I  met 
Tawa  there — at  a  supper  the  old  fellow  gave  me. 
His  wives  waited  on  us — he  had  three  or  four  regu- 
lar ones.  They  aren't  very  strict  Mohammedans 
and  don't  make  a  fuss  about  their  women  going 
about  unveiled  and  all  that.  Old  Medac  had  half  a 
dozen  sons  but  only  one  daughter — he  was  im- 
mensely proud  of  her." 

"That  was  Tawa?" 

"Yes.     She  didn't  wait  on  us  but  she  came  in, 


WE  TALK  OF  SUMATRA  157 

unveiled,  when  the  meal  was  half  over  and  sat  down 
on  the  cushions  between  her  father  and  me.  The 
old  man  made  her  feed  me  sweetmeats  out  of  a 
brass  jar." 

"Was  she  pretty?" 

"  For  a  Sumatran,  yes,  very — she  would  have 
passed  muster  anywhere.  Clear,  olive  skin,  large, 
dark  eyes,  and  all  that.  She  didn't  chew  betel-nut 
either,  so  her  mouth  was  as  sweet  and  well-shaped 
as  anybody's.  I  was  attracted  to  her  at  once — all 
the  more  because  she  spoke  to  me  in  English." 

"  In  English?     Wasn't  that  unusual?  " 

"  Yes,  almost  unique.  You  see,  she'd  made  sev- 
eral long  visits  to  Singapore,  and  then  she  had  a 
Chinese  maid  who  spoke  English  very  well,  real 
English — she'd  learned  it  at  a  mission  school  in 
Hongkong." 

"  I  see." 

"  That  was  the  way  of  it.  She  laughed  and 
joked  like  an  American  girl — we  took  to  each  other 
at  once — Tawa  and  I.  I  was  a  white  man  and 
therefore  a  great  lord  from  the  native  point  of 
view,  and  as  for  her — well,  I  was  lonely,  Nell,  des- 
perately lonely — you  know  why." 

She  said  nothing,  nor  would  she  meet  my  glance. 
I  went  on. 

"  Old  Datu  Medac  was  rather  pleased  than  other- 
wise by  Tawa's — by  our  taking  such  a  fancy  to 
each  other.  In  fact,  I  suppose  I  may  say  he  did 
all  he  could  to  encourage  it." 


158  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

"It?" 

"  Our  fondness  for  each  other,  you  know." 

"  Oh." 

"  After  that  night  we  saw  each  other  every  day — 
usually  on  the  slope  of  a  hill  overlooking  the  river. 
There  was  a  shady  place  there  in  a  clump  of 
feather-bamboo — the  slopes  below  us  and  on  both 
sides  were  covered  with  white-plumed  grass.  The 
river  wound  along  at  the  foot  of  the  hill — dark 
and  with  something  sinister  about  it,  the  way  tropi- 
cal rivers  have." 

"  Wasn't  it  dangerous  for  her  to  meet  you  like 
that?  Don't  those  natives  carry  dreadful  knives? 
— her  father  and  brothers  ?  " 

"  I  didn't  make  myself  clear.  Old  Medac  was 
willing  to  let  us  get  acquainted,  and  two  or  three 
women  always  came  with  Tawa — the  Chinese  maid 
for  one,  and  I've  no  doubt  one  of  the  others  was 
her  mother.  I  never  got  Medac's  wives  straight. 
Tawa  and  I  would  sit  down  on  a  little  knoll,  and 
the  others  would  stroll  off  a  few  yards." 

"  It  sounds  as  if  you  had  to — to  make  love  under 
difficulties." 

"  I  couldn't  call  it  that,  although  I  suppose  it 
was  that  in  a  way.  At  any  rate,  I  never  saw  her 
alone  for  a  second — up  to  the  very  last." 

I  was  silent,  my  mind  crowded  with  images  of 
that  time — the  darkly-glancing  river,  mysterious 
and  sinister  below  the  white-plumed  grass — the 
setting  sun  driving  a  column  of  crimson  through 


WE  TALK  OF  SUMATRA  159 

the  shafts  of  feather-bamboo — the  bronze-colored 
faces  of  the  attendants — and,  above  all,  Tawa's 
large  eyes  fixed  earnestly  on  my  face  as  I  talked. 

"  Well,"  I  went  on,  "  in  spite  of  what  you  hear 
about  the  apathy  of  the  East,  matters  move  fast  in 
some  ways.  Anger  and  hate  are  swifter  than 
anywhere  else — and  so  is  love,  perhaps.  I  don't 
know  why  it  is — probably  because  the  spirit  of  the 
country  gets  into  one's  veins — the  hot-blooded  peo- 
ple, the  climate,  the  gorgeousness  of  the  jungle, 
and  all  that.  And  then  people  expect  violence  and 
hurry  in  those  things  just  as  they  expect  slowness 
and  unchangeableness  in  everything  else — it's  what 
they're  used  to.  I  don't  want  to  philosophize — the 
point  is,  it  wasn't  more  than  a  month  after  I  met 
Tawa  that  the  date  was  set  for  our  wedding." 

"  O-oh  !     You  were  married !  " 

**  The  wedding  was  to  be  at  the  end  of  the  next 
month.  The  night  after  old  Medac  and  Tawa  and 
I  had  talked  it  all  over,  I  couldn't  sleep — for  think- 
ing. Do  you  remember  we  agreed  yesterday  that 
thanking  is  one  form  of  Tophet  ?  " 

"  I  remember." 

"  Two  days  afterward,  I  told  Tawa  I  was  going 
on  a  hunting  trip.  I  said  I  was  simply  bound  to 
give  her  a  rhinoceros  horn  for  a  wedding  present — 
you  know  a  rhinoceros  horn  is  supposed  to  bring 
good  luck. 

"  At  first  Tawa  only  laughed,  then  when  she 
saw  I  was  in  earnest,  she  begged  me  not  to  go. 


160  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

But  I  felt  I  must  get  away  for  a  while  or  I'd  go 
crazy.  I  thought  if  I  could  hunt,  and  hunt,  and 
hunt,  I  could  wear  off  the  thinking  and  come  back 
to  her  contented. 

"  At  last  she  cried — she  said  she  knew  some  harm 
would  happen  to  me,  if  I  left  her.  But  somehow 
I  couldn't  give  way  even  when  she  was  so  pitiful 
about  it.  I  told  her  my  jinn — that's  what  they  call 
their  personal  guardian  spirit — my  jinn  had  put 
it  into  my  heart  that  I  must  get  the  horn  or  our 
marriage  would  be  unfortunate. 

"  We'd  been  sitting  at  our  favorite  spot  on  the 
knoll  by  the  river — when  I  told  her  that  about  my 
jinn,  she  stopped  trying  to  persuade  me  at  once. 
*  Go  then,  Tuan,'  she  said — Tuan  means  lord  in 
Malayan — *  Go,  Tuan,  and  I  will  stand  here,  every 
night,  and  look  down  the  river  for  you.' 

"  Well,  I  went  the  very  next  day,  with  Dirck  and 
thirty  of  Medac's  best  hunters  and  three  or  four 
of  Tawa's  brothers — you  see,  they  thought  my 
idea  of  getting  a  present  for  Tawa  was  very 
natural. 

"  We'd  been  gone  only  five  days  when  one  night 
a  runner  came  into  our  camp  from  Larang — Tawa 
was  very  ill  with  fever. 

"  I  travelled  night  and  day.  But  those  tropical 
fevers  run  like  wildfire — when  I  got  back  to  her  she 
was  dying.  At  sunset,  every  night,  she'd  looked 
for  me  from  the  hill  above  the  river.  The  worst 
of  it  is  she'd  probably  caught  the  fever  from  the 


WE  TALK  OF  SUMATRA  161 

river  mists — waiting  for  me.  The  harm  had  come 
to  her,  not  to  me  as  she  had  had  a  foreboding. 

"  I  got  to  her  in  time  for  her  to  recognize  me — 
I've  always  been  thankful  for  that.  She  was  able 
to  talk  to  me  a  little — before  the  end.  She  rested 
in  my  arms — at  the  very  last." 

I  was  leaning  forward,  my  chin  in  my  hands, 
staring  at  the  red  coals  between  the  grate-bars. 
I  sat  so  for  a  long  time.  Ellen,  too,  was  silent, 
and  I  did  not  look  at  her. 

At  last  a  door  that  slammed  faintly  in  a  distant 
part  of  the  house  recalled  me  to  the  present — its 
own  problems  and  difficulties.  Ellen  knew  the  truth 
of  the  story  that  had  filled  more  than  one  column 
of  German  and  American  papers — after  all,  the 
truth  was  nothing  to  be  ashamed  of.  I  was  not 
sorry  I  had  told  her  all.  I  glanced  at  her  silent 
figure. 

The  firelight  wrought  quaint  patterns  on  the  rose 
quilt.  Her  head  was  still  propped  on  her  folded 
hands — she  looked  very  small  and  rather  pitiful. 
Her  eyes  were  closed  and  she  sat  without  percept- 
ible motion.  Tired  out  by  the  day's  experiences 
and  lulled  by  the  sound  of  my  voice,  it  seemed  she 
had  fallen  asleep. 

I  got  to  my  feet  and  slipped  quietly  from  the 
room. 


11 


XVI 

ALECK  EXPLAINS 

THE  outer  room  was  devoid  of  occupants,  but  I 
was  sure  I  had  heard  a  door  slam.  There  had  been 
a  peculiarly  incisive  quality  to  that  slam,  as  if 
there  had  been  more  strength  behind  it  than  Mary 
Finney  would  have  been  likely  to  employ. 

I  stepped  quietly  to  the  door  that  led  onto  the 
gallery  above  the  gorge,  and  pushed  it  open.  As 
I  had  half  expected,  a  shabby-looking  man  was 
sitting  talking  to  Miss  Finney.  At  sight  of  me  he 
sprang  to  his  feet — it  was  the  same  fellow  I  had 
surprised  with  Ellen  the  day  before.  My  blood 
pounded  in  my  throat! 

Without  a  second  glance  at  me,  the  man  took 
a  couple  of  hasty  steps  toward  a  door  farther  down 
the  gallery.  Then  I  had  him  by  the  shoulder, 
dragged  him  sharply  back,  and  flung  him  into  a 
chair. 

"  I  want  to  see  you,  my  friend,"  I  snapped. 

He  made  no  resistance,  apparently  overwhelmed 
by  the  fierceness  of  my  attack.  Not  so  Mary 
Finney. 

"Mr.  Schuyler!  Mr.  Schuyler!"  Her  face 
flushing  and  paling,  her  tears  starting,  she  pulled 
at  my  hands  like  a  dove  defending  her  young. 
"  Let  go  of  him !  You  sha'n't  do  it.  You  sha'n't 
take  my  Ned!" 

162 


ALECK  EXPLAINS  163 

I  released  the  man — my  coolness  returned — and 
looked  down  at  him.  He  sat  crouched  in  his  chair, 
without  lifting  his  eyes. 

He  was  a  thin,  almost  cadaverous  fellow  of 
twenty-eight  or  thirty.  His  hair  was  brown  and 
wavy,  and  his  face  was  smooth-shaven.  I  noticed 
the  hands,  lifted  to  straighten  the  worn  tie,  were 
not  those  of  a  workingman.  There  was  something 
vaguely  familiar  about  the  lines  of  his  face. 

Mary  Finney  hovered  distressfully  about  him. 
"So  this  is  your  Ned,  is  it?"  I  said.  "I  don't 
congratulate  you  on  your  Ned — he  oughtn't  to 
run  every  time  he  sees  me." 

She  wrung  her  hands  in  her  mediaeval  gesture  of 
despair.  "  Oh,  don't  be  hard  on  him.  He  didn't 
mean  any  harm." 

I  stared,  then  my  eyes  going  abruptly  to  the  fel- 
low, surprised  his  own  fixed  upon  my  face.  They 
were  gray  eyes,  with  hazel  lights  in  them. 

Catching  my  glance,  he  threw  back  his  head  with 
an  air  half  haughty,  half  indifferent. 

"Ned  Sutphen!" 

"  Well,  what  of  it  ?  "  The  man's  voice  was  infin- 
itely sullen.  "  Who  did  you  think  I  was?  " 

"  You  sha'n't  hurt  him ! "  cried  Mary  again. 
"  You  sha'n't  have  him !  " 

"  Good  Lord !  Who  wants  him?  If  he  hadn't  run 
I  wouldn't  have  laid  hands  on  him.  Ned,  what  are 
you  doing  here? — like  this." 

"  I've  only  been  home  a  month — from  Nevada." 


164  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

I  turned  to  the  girl.  "  Miss  Finney,  I  want  to 
talk  to  Mr.  Sutphen.  I  left  Miss  Sutphen  asleep 
by  the  fire — suppose  you  see  if  she's  in  need  of 
anything." 

"  Go  ahead,  Mary,"  said  Ned.     "  I'm  all  right." 

I  waited  until  Miss  Finney  had  closed  the  door 
behind  her,  then  I  faced  Sutphen. 

I  saw  the  deep  lines  from  nostrils  to  mouth- 
corners,  the  eyes  a  little  reddened  by  hard  living, 
and  the  weak  contour  of  the  jaw.  This  was  not 
the  well-groomed,  self-possessed  man  of  the  world 
I  had  expected  to  see  in  Ellen's  brother.  The  mys- 
tery of  the  situation  was  beyond  all  comprehension  ! 
I  moved  a  chair  and  sat  down  square  in  front  of 
him.  He  started,  and  eyed  me  uneasily. 

"  Why  was  Miss  Finney  so  afraid  I  would  harm 
you?  You  don't  look  as  if  you'd  been  kept  in  a 
china-closet  all  your  life." 

"  What?  Oh,  I  don't  know.  Women  are  fools 
— foolish,  I  mean." 

"  If  women  weren't  foolish,  it  would  be  bad  for 
us  men  in  the  next  world,  wouldn't  it?" 

"  Are  you  going  to  preach,  Schuyler?  " 

"Preach?  Far  from  it."  I  groped  for  a 
further  explanation  of  the  scene  I  had  just  wit- 
nessed. "  What  in  the  world  is  all  this  about ! 
She  called  you  *  Ned '  rather  familiarly." 

"  She  has  a  right  to— -I'm  her  husband." 

I  gasped  a  little.     "  What !  » 

"  We've  been   married   a   month,"   he   returned 


ALECK  EXPLAINS  165 

"  You  needn't  apologize — I'm  mighty  glad  of  it, 
Sutphen — I  was  afraid  it  was  something  else.  Does 
your  sister  know  it?  " 

"  Of  course.  Nell  was  a  witness — she  and  Norah 
Westbrook." 

"  A-ah,  I  see.     What  about  your  mother?  " 

"  She  didn't  know  until  last  night — didn't  know 
I  was  home  even." 

"  It  was  you  who  called  her  out  from  the  draw- 
ing-room last  night?  " 

"  Yes.  I  made  up  my  mind  to  tell  her — about 
my  marriage  and  all — and  have  it  over  with." 

"  Very  thoughtful  of  you." 

"  Look  here,  Schuyler," — he  made  a  feeble 
attempt  to  browbeat  me, — "  what  are  you  putting 
me  through  this  damned  cross-examination  for?  " 

"  Because  I  want  to  know.  Because  I  choose — 
that's  why,  Sutphen.  I'm  staying  at  your  mother's 
house — you  know  that." 

He  nodded  sullenly. 

"  Very  good.  I'm  a  guest  of  the  family  and  I 
find  the  son  of  the  family  has  become  a  scapegrace. 
That  fits  you,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  I  don't  say  it  doesn't." 

"  The  scapegrace  son  of  the  family  dodging  in 
and  out  a  country  girl's  cottage.  Furthermore, 
he  declares  he  has  married  the  country  girl." 

"  It's  true." 

"  I  believe  you.  Well,  I'm  interested,  and  if 
you  ask  me  why,  I'll  tell  you." 


166  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

His  lips  barely  framed  the  word. 

"  Because  you  helped  to  persuade  your  wife  to 
try  to  burglarize  my  room  last  night.  Do  3  ou 
wonder  I'm  interested?  " 

He  had  seen  what  was  coming  so  could  turn  no 
paler  than  he  was. 

"  Never  mind,"  I  continued.  "  I'm  quite  capable 
of  taking  care  of  myself.  Let  all  that  go.  Ned, 
I'd  never  heard  of  it,  but  you've  evidently  been  down 
on  your  luck  for  a  while — you  look  the  part,  at 
any  rate.  What's  the  matter,  man?  You  can't 
be  thirty  yet." 

"  Twenty-seven,"  muttered  the  other. 

"  How  far  down  are  you  ?  "  I  demanded.  "  And 
how  did  it  happen?  " 

He  gave  a  short  laugh.  "  Oh,  I'm  not  kicking. 
It  happened  as  it  always  does,  I  suppose — because 
a  man's  a  fool.  I  was,  at  any  rate." 

"But  how?" 

"  Do  you  really  want  to  know?  Well,  after  I 
left  Yale — fired  in  my  Sophomore  year,  you  know 
— I  tried  stocks  a  little — with  Sheepshead  and 
Gravesend  and  Saratoga  on  the  side.  The  same 
old  story.  From  that  it  was  only  a  step  to  Haly's 
and  Danfield's — one  of  Nell's  friends,  a  chap  named 
Beauchamp,  first  started  me  ihere" 

"  I  know  him." 

"  He's  a  smooth  article,  isn't  he?  But  if  it 
hachi't  been  Beauchamp,  it  would  have  been  some- 
body else  for  me — I'm  not  kicking.  Everywhere — 


ALECK  EXPLAINS  167 

Wall  Street  and  all — I  lost — I  kept  on  losing." 

"You  did?" 

"  You  see,  I  was  supposed  to  be  a  business  man — 
I  had  the  greater  part  of  Nell's  and  mother's  money 
in  my  charge."  He  drew  a  long  breath,  and  went 
on  painfully.  "  It  went — they  have  hardly  enough 
to  get  along  on  this  minute — it  went  and  then — I 
had  to  tell  them — then  I  went  West." 

He  talked,  his  eyes  half  shut,  but  his  face  held 
steadily  toward  me  as  if  he  found  relief  in  going 
over  his  sordid  story.  I  nodded  at  the  closed  door. 

"  How  about ?  " 

"Mary?  I  don't  suppose  that  was  different 
from  other  cases  you've  heard  about.  She's  pretty 
— you  can  see  that  for  yourself,  and  I — I  was  a 
brute,  as  a  man  always  is  when  he  sees  the  girl  cares 
for  him." 

"  You're  married,  you  say." 

"  Yes.  That's  why  I'm  here  now.  She  went  to 
Nell  and — and  told  her  everything.  Nell's  a  brick ! 
She  wrote  me  to  come  home  at  once — she  sent  a 
cheque  to  cover  my  fare,  too.  When  the  letter 
reached  me  I  was  knocked  out  with  typhoid  in  Tona- 
pah — they  didn't  even  tell  me  about  it  for  weeks. 
Then  I  started  home." 

"  Were  you — in  time  ?  " 

"  When  I  reached  here — the  baby  had  been  born 
and — and  had  died.  Mary  and  I  were  married  the 
day  I  got  here.  The  baby  is — over  there,  in  the 
old  graveyard." 


168  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

He  drew  another  long  breath. 

"  Well,"  I  said,  "  you  did  right  to  come  home. 
You  acted  like  a  man,  there." 

"  It  was  about  time  I  should,"  he  returned  bit- 
terly. "  I've  done  enough  of  the  other  thing." 

His  reference  to  the  old  graveyard  stirred  my 
memory.  "  Sutphen,  you  weren't  about  here  at  the 
time,  but  did  you  ever  hear  of  Kitty  Willetts  ?  " 

He  gave  me  a  sharp  glance.  "  Yes,  of  course — 
we  all  remember — that  affair." 

"  What  became  of  her  child,  do  you  know?  " 

"  Died  two  or  three  months  after  the  mother, 
I  believe — just  about  the  time  you  sailed." 

"  Did  it  ever  come  out  who  the  father  was  ?  " 

"  No-o.  That  is,  most  people  never  knew — some 
guessed." 

I  nodded.  "  Ned,  give  me  time  to  think  your  case 
over — a  couple  of  days,  say.  Perhaps  I  can  help 
put  you  on  your  feet  again." 

"  You !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  Oh,  yes,  I  suppose  so 
— you !  "  His  manner  underwent  a  sudden  change. 
"  Look  here,  Schuyler,  don't  you  sit  there  and  sneer 
at  me.  Damn  it !  I  won't  stand  it — not  if  you 
kill  me  for  it!" 

"  What  the  devil  are  you  talking  about  ?  I  say 
I'll  help  you,  if  I  can — if  I  can  think  out  a  way 
to  do  you  any  good.  You're  your  own  worst 
enemy,  but  as  long  as  drink  isn't  the  trouble,  and 
you  don't  look  far  gone  enough  for  that,  I  fancy 
I  can  find  a  way  out  for  you." 


ALECK  EXPLAINS  169 

"  You  don't  mean  it,"  he  faltered. 

"  Yes,  I  do."  I  rose  to  my  feet,  and  shook 
hands  with  him,  vastly  to  his  surprise.  "  Give  my 
good  wishes  to  your  wife.  I'll  see  you  in  a  day  or 
two." 

"  Is  Nell  ready  to  go?  Mary  was  telling  me  she 
got  wet " 

"  Yes.  She  was  dreaming  by  the  kitchen  stove 
a  little  while  ago.  I  won't  disturb  her.  Please  tell 
her  I'll  send  my  car  over  for  her  by  five  o'clock. 
That'll  get  her  home  comfortably." 

"  All  right.  I'm  sure,  Schuyler,  I'm  much 
obliged  for " 

I  cut  short  his  thanks.  "  And,  Ned,  let  Ellen 
know  I  won't  appear  at  dinner  to-night.  I'll  get 
my  man  to  bring  me  up  a  bite,  and  then,  I  won't 
have  to  dress — I'm  feeling  lazy." 

He  saw  through  my  little  subterfuge.  "  You're 
a  good  sort,  Schuyler." 

I  left  the  house  without  more  ado,  and  started 
briskly  homeward  across  the  downs.  I  glanced  into 
the  gully  as  I  passed — the  bloodhound  was  no- 
where visible  and  I  knew  young  Westbrook  or 
Beauchamp  must  have  rescued  the  brute.  It 
made  me  shudder  to  picture  how  Ellen  had  lain, 
if  only  for  an  instant,  beneath  his  enormous  paw. 
I  desired  to  punish  her  in  my  own  way,  with  all 
the  refinements  of  torture  that  our  positions  made 
possible,  not  to  see  her  mangled  by  a  mad  hound. 
Strange  how  he  had  leaped  at  us  so  abruptly ! 


170  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

It  was  not  yet  three  o'clock — the  afternoon  was 
still  young.  I  stepped  out  merrily,  whistling  to 
myself,  and  half  wishing  I  had  the  morning's  run 
to  go  over  again.  I  thought  of  a  wily  trick  or  two 
whereby  we  might  have  thrown  our  pursuers  off  the 
scent.  How  innocent  and  boyish  Ellen  had  looked 
as  we  waded  the  stream. 

Thus  meditating,  the  miles  slipped  behind  me 
unawares — I  almost  stumbled  over  Beauchamp  and 
young  Westbrook  at  that  same  corner  of  the  stone 
wall  from  which  Ellen  and  I  had  taken  to  the  trees. 

"  Hello,  Schuyler,"  said  the  Englishman. 
"  Awfully  glad  to  see  you  again,  old  chap.  Schuy- 
ler and  I  came  over  together,  the  other  day,"  he 
explained  to  Aleck.  "  We  had  some  capital  bridge 
in  the  smoking-room.  Wot  cheer,  matie !  " 

We  shook  hands  with,  on  his  part  at  least,  a 
semblance  of  cordiality.  I  tried  in  vain  to  detect 
in  his  face  or  bearing  any  chagrin  over  Ellen's 
rejection  of  him  that  morning — he  was  too  much  a 
man-of-the-world  to  betray  himself. 

"  You've  been  on  our  trail  with  Aleck  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Yes.  You  and  Miss  Sutphen  made  proper 
duffers  of  us ! "  His  eyes  had  been  searching  the 
grove  behind  me.  "  By  the  way,  old  man,  where  is 
Miss  Sutphen?" 

"  She  was  pretty  well  done  up.  She's  resting? 
at  a  cottage  back  there.  Aleck,  what's  become  of 
«  Gomez'?" 

"  We  let  him  find  his  own  way  home.     He's  a 


ALECK  EXPLAINS  171 

good  deal  knocked  about,  too.  I'll  be  hanged  if  we 
didn't  find  him  at  the  bottom  of  a  thirty-foot  gully. 
How  in  the  world  the  idiot  fell  into  that  I  don't 
know.  Have  you  any  idea,  Schuyler?  " 

"  I  threw  him  there." 

"  What ! " 

"  Come,  that's  good,"  said  Beauchamp.  "  Do 
you  mean  it — really?  " 

I  gave  them  a  brief  account  of  our  contretemps 
with  the  bloodhound.  Aleck  was  visibly  distressed. 

"  Good  Heavens !  he  might  have  killed  her !  Sup- 
pose he  had  scarred  her  for  life !  " 

"  It  was  a  close  call,"  I  agreed. 

Beauchamp,  however,  was  inclined  to  scoff  at 
the  danger.  "  Don't  you  fancy  the  brute  was  only 
trying  to  be  playful,  Schuyler?  Bally  poor  style 
of  play,  of  course,  but  that's  about  it." 

"  Hardly.  It  wasn't  a  mere  idle  gambol,  I 
promise  you,  Beauchamp — I've  seen  wild  animals 
charge,  you  know.  *  Gomez  '  was  in  earnest." 

"  Come,  old  chap !  You  don't  mean  to  say  an 
owl  hooting,  or  whatever  that  sound  was,  could  have 
set  him  on  so.  That's  rather  stiff,  don't  you 
think?" 

"  I  don't  say  it  was  that — but  he  certainly 
charged  for  us  at  that  time.  He'd  been  good- 
natured  enough  before  that." 

"  I  fancy  it  was  only  his  play — really.  *  Gomez  ' 
wouldn't  hurt  a  fly." 

He  had  hoisted  himself  to  a  seat  on  the  stone 


172  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

wall,  and  sat  softly  drumming  his  heels  against  the 
side.  I  noticed  that  his  forehead  sloped  almost  in 
the  Hapsburg  manner.  His  eyes  regarded  me  with 
the  characteristic  British  aloofness. 

Aleck  stood  near,  idly  beating  his  dog-leash 
against  his  leg,  apparently  in  a  taciturn  mood. 

By  an  indefinable  air  of  embarrassment  about  the 
two  men — by  Beauchamp's  unusual  talkativeness 
even  more  than  by  Aleck's  moroseness — I  knew  they 
had  been  discussing  me  just  before  I  stumbled  upon 
them.  I  was  not  the  more  disposed  to  hurry  away 
on  that  account. 

"  Wot  cheer,  matie ! "  Beauchamp  rattled  on. 
"  Let  the  dogs  go  to  the  dogs !  I  say,  Schuyler, 
it's  been  a  long  while  since  we  chivied  the  girls  to- 
gether about  here,  hasn't  it,  now  ?  " 

I  did  not  like  his  tone.  "  I  wouldn't  call  it  chivy- 
ing. Squired  them  a  little,  if  you  like,  but  chivied, 
no.  It  has  an  unpleasant  sound." 

"  Oh,  come,  now.  Why  so  high  and  mighty ! 
Women  are  fair  game,  aren't  they?  To  hunt  one 
down  now  and  again — that's  living.  You  ought  to 
know  that,  old  fellow — they  say  you  were  a  real 
Bashaw  in  the  East,  you  know." 

"Who  says  so?" 

He  waved  his  hand  expansively.  "  The  world, 
my  boy — Berlin,  Paris,  London,  New  York — and 
Bannocks." 

"  Nonsense !  I  don't  claim  to  be  a  saint,  Beau- 
champ,  but  I'm  not  a  Bashaw.  You  can  set  down 


ALECK  EXPLAINS  173 

any  such  tales  you  hear  about  me  as  downright 
lies." 

"  Really  ?  Oh,  come !  It's  no  disgrace  to  own 
up — all  strictly  entre  nous,  you  know.  Besides, 
you  won't  shock  us — you  left  a  bit  of  a  trail  behind 
you  here,  I  remember — before  you  started  for  the 
wild  and  woolly  East."  He  laughed  relishingly. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  He  did  not  realize  the 
significance  of  my  increasing  quiet. 

"  No  post  mortems,  old  fellow." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  I  repeated. 

"  Wliy  everybody  knows  about  that  little  affair, 
you  know.  I  don't  blame  you." 

"  What  affair?  " 

"  Oh,  come !     Kitty  Willetts,  of  course." 

His  barefaced  effrontery  amazed  me.  "  Kitty 
Willetts?  "  I  repeated  stupidly. 

"  Yes.  Pm  not  saying  anything,  you  know,  but 
it's  a  strong  on  dit  that  it  was  you  who  looked  out 
for  her  comfort." 

I  glanced  at  Aleck  Westbrook.  He  was  listen- 
ing with  averted  face. 

"I  did,"  I  said,  "afterward — after  the  child 
was  born." 

"  Afterward  ?  "  repeated  Beauchamp.  "  Oh,  of 
course — very  properly  managed,  too.  Of  course  a 
girl  like  that  wouldn't  accept  anything  from  you 
except  for  the  child's  sake." 

"Why  should  she?  I  was  almost  a  stranger  to 
her." 


174  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

"  A  stranger?  "  he  smiled.  "  Now,  that's  ab- 
surd, Schuyler." 

Then  at  last  I  saw  the  point  of  all  this.  More, 
I  understood  Ned  Sutphen's  scarcely-veiled  surprise 
at  my  question  about  poor  Kitty  Willetts.  I  un- 
derstood the  meaning  of  half  a  dozen  innuendoes 
of  the  last  thirty-six  hours — Willy  Archer's  insist- 
ence upon  a  Sumatran  Nights'  story,  Aleck  West- 
brook's  reference  to  my  "  vile  adventures,"  Dot 
Archer's  admonitory  forefinger  and  her :  "  Wicked, 
wicked  man !  "  It  was  not  only  the  German  harem- 
supplier's  slander  of  me  that  had  inspired  these 
thrusts.  It  was,  also,  the  devil's  page  that  the 
Englishman  had  just  turned  for  my  perusal. 

The  shamelessness  of  the  man  woke  a  red  rage 
within  me.  I  took  a  step  forward. 

"  Get  off  that  wall." 

He  was  on  his  feet  in  an  instant,  facing  me  with 
perfect  coolness.  "  Wot  cheer,  matie !  What's  the 
row?  " 

"  Damn  you !  "  I  said.  "  Do  you  think  I  don't 
know  the  truth  f  " 

With  my  left  fist  I  struck  at  his  eye.  He  back- 
stepped,  bringing  himself  up  short  against  the  wall, 
as  I  had  calculated.  On  the  instant  I  uppercut 
him  smartly  with  my  right. 

He  tottered,  hung  for  a  breath,  then  slid  weakly 
down  against  the  wall.  It  was  a  clean  knock-out. 

Aleck  Westbrook  started  forward.  I  whirled 
upon  him  like  a  flash,  my  fury  unabated.  He  re-. 


ALECK  EXPLAINS  175 

coiled  before  my  set  face,  throwing  up  his  arms 
to  ward  off  the  expected  blow.  Utterly  disregard- 
ing his  motion,  I  gripped  him  by  the  collar  with  my 
left  hand — my  right  threatened  him. 

"  What  do  you  know  about  this  ?  "  I  shook  him 
to  and  fro  furiously.  "  I  let  you  off  last  night, 
but  you've  got  to  speak  up  now  or  I'll  put  you  be- 
side him." 

His  boyish  pride  struggled  with  his  fear  and 
shame.  "  I — you — I'm  not  afraid  of  you, 
Schuyler." 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  are.  And  you're  afraid  to  lie — 
you  wouldn't  be  Norah's  brother,  if  you  weren't." 
I  let  go  his  collar  and  stood  squarely  before  him. 
"  You've  heard  what  he  said — heard  it  said 
before?" 

"  Yes — it's  an  old  story,"  he  muttered,  now  be- 
ginning to  be  awed  by  my  resolute  behavior — per- 
haps, also,  by  a  glimpse  over  my  shoulder  of  the 
still  unconscious  Englishman. 

"  An  old  story,  Js  it?     How  old?  " 

"  I  first  heard  it  three  or  four  years  ago— I  sup- 
pose it  must  have  been  about  the  time — you  left  the 
United  States." 

"  Did  you  ever  hear  your  brother — did  you  ever 
hear  Rex  speak  of  it?" 

"  I  don't  remember.  No-o,  I  don't  think  I  ever 
did." 

'*  I  don't  think  you  ever  did  either.  Did  Norah 
ever  hear  of  this? " 


176  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

His  eyes  fell.     "  I — I  think  so.     I'm  sure  of  it." 

"Who  told  you?— who  told  Norah?" 

"  I  don't  know — no  one  in  particular — it  was  in 
the  air." 

"  I  see.     Did  she  believe  it  ?  " 

"  I — I'm  afraid  she  did."  He  gathered  assur- 
ance at  my  silence.  "  Why,  look  here,  Schuyler, 
everybody  believed  it — except  Rex,  may  be.  I 
don't  think  he  ever  knew.  You  were  such  great 
friends,  and  he  was  so  fond  of  you,  nobody  ever 
dared  tell  him  about  it — it  was  near  the  end,  you 
remember.  Everybody  believes  it — Norah,  and  the 
Archers,  and  Ellen  and " 

"What!" 

"  Of  course.  We  all  guessed  that  you  and  she 
quarrelled  over — that  is,  that  you  left  the  country 
because " 

His  voice  died  away  before  my  stricken  stare. 
He  shrank  a  little  as  if  he  again  thought  I  was 
about  to  strike  him.  But  I  hardly  saw  the  boy. 

What  I  saw  was  the  drawing-room  at  "  Red 
Cedars,"  four  years  before.  I  felt  again  Mrs.  Sut- 
phen's  hot  indignation  and  Ellen's  coldly-hurt  con- 
tempt. I  knew  again  my  maddened  groping  for 
the  reasons  they  had  so  contemptuously  refused  to 
give. 

My  eyes,  staring  stonily  about,  swept  over  Beau- 
champ, — now  partly  aroused  and  sitting  with  his 
aching  head  in  his  hands,— and  came  back  to  young 
Westbrook. 


ALECK  EXPLAINS  177 

"  Aleck,"  I  said  thickly,  "  do  a  man's  own  friends 
believe  such  a  thing  as  that  when  his  whole  life  has 
been  decent?  " 

He  was  moved  by  my  evident  distress.  "  But 
everything  looked  so  dead  against  you,  Schuyler," 
he  explained  eagerly.  "  I  remember  myself,  when 
I  was  just  a  boy,  seeing  you  go  in  and  out  of  the 
Willetts'  house.  And  then — the  night  the — the 
baby  was  born,  you  roused  up  Willy  Archer  and 
made  him  get  out  his  car  to  go  for  the  doctor. 
Isn't  that  so?" 

"  Yes.  Rex  was  already  down  with  typhoid 
and " 

"Rex?" 

"  I  mean  that  explains  my  excitement  that 
night." 

"  Hum-m.  Then  you  were  almost  the  only 
mourner  at  the  funeral — at  any  rate,  so  I've  heard 
— you  and  old  Mr.  Willetts." 

I  nodded.     "  I  helped  him  carry  the  coffin." 

"  And  you  placed  five  thousand  dollars  to  Wil- 
letts' account  in  the  Bannocks  National  Bank — 
after  the  funeral.  General  Savarton  is  a  director, 
you  know,"  he  explained  ingenuously. 

"  Ellen  Sutphen  learned  all  this — and  believed 
the  worst  ?  " 

"  How  could  she  help  It?     We  all  did." 

"  You  all  do?  "  I  demanded. 

He  moved  uneasily.     "  I  suppose  so." 

To  his  amazement  and,  I  think,  to  his  horror, 
I  burst  out  laughing. 
12 


178  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

"  Thanks  for  your  frankness,  Aleck.  I  wish 
someone  had  been  as  frank  four  years  ago.  You've 
explained  several  things  to  me.  Look  after  your 
friend,  Beauchamp — he's  in  need  of  kind  treat- 
ment, I  fancy.  Much  obliged  to  you.  Good-by, 
I'll  be  going." 

I  laughed  again,  and  turned  away,  leaving  Aleck 
gazing  after  me  as  if  he  thought  me  mad.  For  the 
moment,  perhaps  I  was. 


XVII 

OVER  A  GRAVE 

FBOM  the  corner  of  the  stone  wall,  where  I  had 
left  Aleck  Westbrook  and  Beauchamp,  to  the  line 
of  evergreens  that  marked  the  point  where  my 
route  diverged  toward  "  Red  Cedars "  was  fully 
four  hundred  yards.  I  covered  the  distance  rap- 
idly, my  mind  in  an  angry  maze.  Now  and  then  I 
felt  the  knuckles  of  my  right  hand  with  infinite 
satisfaction. 

When  the  evergreens  reared  stark  before  me,  I 
came  to  a  halt,  seized  by  a  sudden  impulse.  I 
glanced  back  along  the  wall — Aleck  was  helping  the 
Englishman  to  his  feet.  Neither's  eyes  were  for 
me.  I  shouldered  aside  the  low  trees  and  stood  in 
the  graveyard. 

It  was  a  pitiful  place  enough,  covering  only  a 
few  acres  and  those  for  the  most  part  unkempt  and 
neglected.  It  had  changed  not  at  all  since  I  last 
saw  it. 

On  all  sides  it  was  hedged  with  trees — the  side 
opposite  the  one  I  had  entered  being  pierced  by  a 
narrow  gateway.  The  high  board  gate  was 
closed  now,  and  this,  together  with  the  sharp  fall 
of  the  ground  beyond,  hid  the  shabby  road  that 
climbed  to  the  place.  How  interminable  the  drive 
up  that  road  had  been — long  ago ! 

The  tangled  grass  was  mown  only  by  the  autumn 
frosts — the  thrift  or  poverty  of  the  country  folk 

179 


180  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

prevented  the  employment  of  a  caretaker.  Oak  and 
ash  trees  stood  irregularly  here  and  there  as  if  the 
graves  were  those  of  pioneers,  dug  in  a  virgin 
wilderness  and  left  to  take  care  of  themselves.  A 
few  rusty  rosebushes  trailed  naked  and  thorny 
limbs  across  half-levelled  mounds. 

Yet  in  spite  of  these  signs  of  indifference,  the 
old  graveyard  had  a  dignity  of  its  own.  The  sun- 
shine lay  in  yellow  patches  on  the  moss-covered 
slabs,  the  wind  sighed  through  the  cedars,  the  mys- 
tery of  the  ragged  acres  spoke  of  peace.  The  place 
filled  my  moment's  need — I  felt  grateful  for  the 
brooding  hush  and  the  restfulness. 

But  I  had  not  come  to  moralize — rather  to  revive 
old  memories. 

In  the  far  corner,  screened  by  its  own  line  of 
evergreens,  slept  the  one  whose  grave  I  had  come 
to  see  once  more.  I  sought  the  spot,  picking  my 
way  across  forsaken  memorials,  my  feet  stumbling 
now  and  then  over  broken  tombstones  hidden  in  the 
weeds  and  grass. 

I  stepped  between  the  two  cedars  that  formed  the 
entrance  of  the  enclosure  I  was  seeking.  It  was 
there  her  father  had  stumbled  and,  for  a  moment, 
I  had  borne  the  whole  weight. 

A  woman  was  arranging  some  flowers  on  the 
grave  by  which  she  knelt.  At  the  sound  of  my 
footsteps  she  spoke  without  looking  up. 

"  Is  that  you,  Aunt  Caroline?  Sec  how  the  sun 
brings  out  the  colors  on  those  asters." 


OVER  A  GRAVE  181 

"  It's  I,  Norah— Craig  Schuyler." 

She  looked  up  with  a  low :  "  Oh ! "  of  surprise 
and  alarm.  Then  the  fear  died  from  her  voice  and 
eyes.  "  Mr.  Schuyler !  " 

She  half  arose  from  her  knees,  spilling  lilies-of- 
the-valley  and  asters  all  about  her  in  a  shower  of 
white  and  gold.  As  if  fearful  of  bruising  the  scat- 
tered blossoms  she  sank  slowly  back,  one  hand 
steadying  herself  by  the  stone  at  the  head  of  the 
grave.  My  eyes  mechanically  read  the  inscription 
beneath  her  fingers,  then  returned  to  her  vivid  face. 

"  You — here  ?  "  she  said. 

"  Yes." 

Her  eyes  showed  the  surprise — it  may  be  the 
disapproval — her  training  forbade  her  to  express 
in  words.  I  met  her  look  gravely. 

"  Do  you  supply  the  flowers  for  the  cemetery?  " 

"  Only — for  this  grave." 

"  You  know  whose  it  is?  " 

"  Of  course." 

I  read  aloud  the  words  carved  on  the  stone  where 
her  hand  rested.  "  '  Katharine  Willets.  Born 
August  15,  1882— died  October  12,  1906.'  Just 
four  years  ago  to-day." 

"  Yes."     She  did  not  lift  her  eyes. 

"  Only  four  years — it  seems  four  hundred  since 
we  carried  her  in  that  gate.  It  was  a  day  about 
like  this,  too.  Her  father  and  I  were  the  only 
mourners." 

"  I— have  heard." 


182  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

"  We  were  the  only  pall-bearers,  too.  Her 
father  wouldn't  let  anyone  else  touch  her.  Poor 
Kitty!  she  was  light  enough.  Did  you  know  her, 
Norah?  " 

"  Very  slightly." 

"  Yes,  you  were  too  young,  at  the  time,  to  have 
known  her  well,  even  if  the  Willetts  hadn't  been — 
rather  different.  The  Willetts  family  have  stood 
still  all  the  years  the  rest  of  us  were  going  on." 

She  did  not  answer.  Her  eyes  were  still  fixed  on 
the  scattered  flowers,  but  as  yet  she  made  no  move 
to  collect  them.  Her  averted  face,  her  flushed 
cheeks — in  the  light  of  my  talk  with  Beauchamp 
and  Aleck — enabled  me  to  read  only  too  well  what 
was  passing  in  her  mind. 

She  was  thinking  me  a  hard-hearted,  ice-brained 
flaneur  in  the  world — a  reformed  gallant,  at  best, 
who  had  come,  perhaps  not  to  gloat  over  but,  at  any 
rate,  to  view  with  indifference  the  grave  of  one 
he  had  ruined. 

I  knew  that  her  first  impulse  must  have  been  to 
fly  from  my  contaminating  presence,  her  second  to 
repulse  me  indignantly  from  the  grave.  Only  the 
trained  repression  of  a  woman  of  the  world  was 
enabling  her  to  endure  the  situation  quietly.  Those 
blue  eyes  of  hers  could  hold  a  bitter  scorn — I  would 
have  given  much  had  they  not  held  it  when  they 
were  bent  upon  me. 

I  looked  at  the  grave,  neatly  turfed  and  kept, — • 
at  the  tiny  mound  at  its  foot. 


OVER  A  GRAVE  183 

At  last  my  eyes  went  back  to  Norah.  She  was 
watching  me,  and  blushed  from  chin  to  brow.  I 
eyed  her,  deliberately  and  gravely,  until  her  head 
drooped  again. 

I  had  seen  not  only  scorn  but  pain  in  those  blue 
eyes.  I  felt  a  sudden  desire  to  tell  her  everything, 
but  what  use  to  go  over  the  story !  Why  attempt 
to  explain  away  so  miserable  an  episode!  It  was 
not  a  thing  one  could  talk  over  freely  with  a  girl — 
and  besides  she  would  not  believe  me.  What  was 
my  unsupported  word  against  a  score  of  damning 
facts — Aleck  Westbrook  had  proved  me  guilty  by 
my  own  testimony. 

Above  all,  a  profound  melancholy  possessed  me, 
the  result  not  of  the  day's  revelations  only  but  of 
the  conflict  so  long  waged  within  me  between  my 
sense  of  what  was  due  to  justice  and  a  still  more 
poignant  feeling. 

The  blonde  head  drooped  as  if  in  sorrow  that  it 
must  believe  me  such  a  scoundrel.  I  longed  to 
know  if  the  swelling  breast  held  a  hope  of  my  re- 
pentance and  contrition — if  the  heart  beat  heavily 
for  my  shame. 

The  cedars  drew  a  green  curtain  behind  the  yel- 
low of  the  asters  and.  of  her  hair,  behind  the  gleam- 
ing white  of  the  headstone  and  of  the  heaped-up 
lilies-of-the-valley.  A  picture  for  a  man  to  dream 
of!  Projected  against  the  evergreens,  I  must  have 
loomed  to  her  a  dark  and  repellent  figure. 

I  spoke  at  last.  "  No  doubt  you're  surprised  to 
see  me  here,  Norah." 


184.  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

"  I  was — but  I  don't  know  why  I  should  have 
been.  I  suppose  it's  natural,  after  all,  that  you 
should  want  to  see  the  grave  again." 

"  She  had  a  sad  life." 

"  You  know  best  about  that." 

"  You  think  me  a  scoundrel?  " 

"  I'm  trying  not  to  judge  you,  Mr.  Schuyler.  I 
think  you've  judged  yourself." 

"  Judged  and  condemned,  you  mean?  " 

"  It  seems  to  me  there  can  be  only  one  verdict 
even  with  yourself  as  judge.  I'm  trying  not  to 
condemn  you  more  harshly  than  you've  probably 
condemned  yourself." 

"  I  haven't  condemned  myself.  Things  aren't  as 
you  think,  at  all.  Norah,  there's  a  lot  to  be  said 
about  this.  You  can't  condemn  a  man  without  a 
hearing — even  a  woman  can't  do  that — and  I  want 
to  tell  you " 

"  Stop !  "  She  drew  herself  up,  her  face  flush- 
ing but  very  firm.  "  I  don't  wish  to  hear  you. 
Not — not  because  I'm  afraid  to  listen  to  things,  but 
I  don't  care  to  hear — a  confession." 

"  You're  taking  it  for  granted  I'm  guilty." 

"  You  don't  deny  that,  do  you?  Oh,  I  know  the 
other  side — the  woman — often  deserves  her  share 
of  the  blame,  too.  But  she  " — her  hand  fluttered 
over  the  headstone — "  she  has  paid  already,  and  it 
would  be  cowardly  for  you  to  tell  your  side — 
now." 

In  all  my  life,  never  but  once  had  I  received  so 


OVER  A  GRAVE  185 

cutting  a  blow.  Her  cruel  stab  pierced  to  my  very 
soul.  A  woman's  blow,  often  delivered  without  due 
consideration  and  even  without  aim,  as  it  is,  never- 
theless wounds  terribly — 'the  question  of  sex  has  a 
thousand  subtleties  and  intensifies  the  agony  of  all 
unkindness.  I  could  have  wept  with  sheer  pain  of  it. 

"  Norah  you're  young  and  intolerant.  I  think 
you'll  realize,  sometime,  the  intolerance  of  good 
women  has  ruined  many  a  man." 

"  Men  don't  need  tolerance — they're  so  big  and 
strong  and — evil.  I  feel  sorry — for  her." 

"  So  do  I — God  knows  I  do.  But,  Norahl,  think 
how  men  are — think  of  the  wild  thoughts  that  come 
smashing  into  our  minds  every  hour  of  the  day. 
When  I  remember  that,  I  think  the  harm  we  don't 
do  when  we  could  do  it,  makes  up  just  a  little  for 
the  harm  we  do  do.  That  terrible  story  of  Steven- 
son's— Dr.  Jekyll  and  Mr.  Hyde — that  isn't  fiction 
— it  isn't  even  a  parable.  It's  the  plain  everyday 
truth  that  exists  in  every  man  you  ever  knew." 

"  I  don't  understand." 

"  I  suppose  not.  A  girl's  life — of  our  sort — is 
usually  so  sheltered  that  she  hardly  ever  meets  a 
cad  who's  determined  to  do  things  he  thinks  he'd 
like  to  do — yet  there's  one  visiting  you  now." 

"  You  mean " 

"  Yes,  Carlos  Beauchamp.  He's  not  a  good 
friend  for  you,  Norah." 

"  Mr.  Beauchamp  is  Aleck's  friend,  not  minr 
Besides,  he  isn't  here  to  answer  for  himself." 


186  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

I  made  a  hopeless  gesture.  "  I  see  you're  con- 
vinced I'm  the  cad." 

"  Oh,  no,  no,  Mr.  Schuyler.  I  don't  think  so — I 
don't  want  to  think  so." 

"  I'm  glad  of  that,  at  least." 

"  I  don't,  really.  Please  believe  me."  Her 
armor  of  scornful  judgment  seemed  to  fall  away 
from  her.  Her  eyes  shone  as  she  looked  up  at  me, 
the  flower-strewn  grave  between  us.  "  Perhaps  I've 
been  too — hard  with  you.  But  I  didn't  start  in 
that  way — I  wasn't  yesterday,  you  know  that.  Last 
night,  at  dinner,  I  took  you  at  your  face  value. 
But  just  now  when  I  saw  you  here — at  her  grave — 
I  was— I  felt " 

"  Shocked." 

"Yes,  I  did.  But  I'm  trying  not  to  feel  so." 
Her  eyes  and  voice  were  wistful.  "  I  don't  want 
you  to  think  I'm  preaching  or — or  interfering,  but 
I  know  people  honestly  do  repent  sometimes." 

She  finished  with  a  little  eager  catch  of  the 
breath.  I  was  silent.  When  she  found  I  meant  to 
return  no  answer  the  light  died  out  of  her  face, 
and  her  hands  began  to  gather  the  scattered  flowers. 
The  sunlight  formed  little  pools  of  gold  in  her  hair 
and  in  the  asters. 

"  Just  four  years  ago  to-day,"  I  said  absently. 
"  That's  a  curious  coincidence.  It's  mighty  good 
of  you  to  come  here  like  this,  Norah." 

She  made  no  reply — I  went  on.  "  You  said 
you'd  brought  flowers  only  for  this  grave,  didn't 
you?  " 


OVER  A  GRAVE  187 

"  Yes." 

"  You've  come  before?  " 

"  No." 

"  I  don't  understand,"  I  said  frankly. 

"Does  it  matter?" 

"  A  little.     It's  mighty  good  of  you." 

She  blushed  vividly.  "  Oh,  no,  it  isn't  I.  I  see 
I'd  better  tell  you.  It's  Ellen  Sutphen." 

"  Nell?     What's  she  to  do  with  it?  " 

"  I  brought  them  to-day  for  her.  Every  year 
— on  the  anniversary  of  Kitty's  death — Ellen  puts 
flowers  here.  She  has  the  lot  kept  trimmed  all  the 
year  round,  too.  This  morning  she  wrote  me  a 
note,  asking  me  to  attend  to  it  for  her.  She  knew 
she'd  probably  be  with  you  all  day  and  wouldn't 
get  a  chance  to  see  to  things  herself." 

She  had  not  lifted  her  eyes  as  she  spoke,  and  now 
busied  herself  with  the  flowers. 

"  Let  me  help  you,"  I  said  after  a  moment's 
silence. 

"  You  may  sort  the  asters,  if  you  like." 

I  knelt  opposite  her,  and  she  handed  me  the  asters 
without  looking  at  me.  Once  when  her  fingers 
touched  mine,  she  drew  them  hastily  away. 

By  and  by  we  had  them  all  arranged — the  lilies- 
of-the-valley  at  the  head  close  to  the  white  marble, 
and  the  yellow  asters  at  the  foot.  I  placed  a  clus- 
ter of  each  on  the  smaller  mound.  Each  received 
the  sun  into  itself  and  took  a  more  vivid  color — 
the  asters  a  delicate  gold  and  the  lilies  a  cream-and- 
ivory. 


188  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

Our  task  done,  we  rose  to  our  feet. 

"Did  you  walk  up?" 

"  No.  Aunt  Caroline  is  waiting  for  me  in  the 
carriage — outside  the  gate." 

"  May  I  see  you  that  far?  " 

"  Of  course." 

We  left  the  little  enclosure  to  the  warm  sunlight 
and  the  flowers.  Half-way  to  the  gate  we  came  to 
a  halt  as  if  by  mutual  consent. 

"  I  hope  I  haven't  been  intolerant."  She  must 
have  been  engaged  in  argument  with  herself. 

"  It  isn't  your  fault.  Someone  was  saying 
something  last  night  that  hit  the  nail  on  the  head 
— about  tales  being  told  about  some  men  and  not 
about  others.  I  suppose  I  must  have  a  lurking 
devil  in  my  eyes  or  a  fling  in  my  walk  or  a  sneer  on 
my  lips — something  of  the  sort,  haven't  I,  that  lets 
everyone  know  I'm  a  moral  leper?  " 

"  No,"  she  said  seriously,  "  you  haven't.  You 
oughtn't  to  talk  so  about  yourself." 

"  It's  bad  enough  to  have  other  people  doing 
it,  you  mean?  You're  right.  Poor  Kitty  Wil- 
letts,  there — it  was  the  biting  gossip  that  killed 
her,  not  what  she  did  or  didn't  do.  It  always 
takes  a  third  person  to  make  a  thing  a  sin,  and 
the  third  person  is  generally  the  world — sometimes 
it's  a  father  or  mother  or  another  lover,  but  usually 
it's  only  the  leering  old  world.  Isn't  that  so  ?  " 

"  It  seems  so.  Until  just  now,  or  yesterday, 
perhaps,  I  thought  sin  was  sin  and  goodness  was 


OVER  A  GRAVE  189 

goodness — I  thought  they  didn't  depend  upon  cir- 
cumstances. But  now — oh,  it's  all  so  uncertain 
in  my  mind.  I  don't  know  what  to  think." 

Her  seriousness — the  puzzled,  wistful  look  she 
bent  upon  me — gave  me  a  strange  sensation.  As 
if  for  the  first  time,  I  took  in  the  thoughtful  eyes, 
the  small,  oval  face,  and  the  girlish  bosom,  just 
now  very  still — so  still  that  all  at  once  I  under- 
stood it  must  take  a  conscious  effort  to  keep  it 
so.  My  own  seriousness  fell  from  me  instantly. 

"  Life  itself  is  uncertain,"  I  said  lightly. 
"  That's  what  gives  it  spice.  Change,  relief,  un- 
certainty— that's  what  I  live  for — that's  an  ex- 
plorer's reward." 

We  had  resumed  our  course  toward  the  gate — 
she  eyed  me  curiously  as  I  went  on.  "  You  know 
someone  said  the  other  day  that  only  two  kinds  of 
Greek  philosophy  appeal  to  the  modern  man — Stoic 
and  Epicurean.  But  Stoicism  is  only  grim  endur- 
ance, so  I  go  in  for  the  live-while-we-live  creed." 

She  made  no  answer — in  a  moment  we  reached 
the  gate.  I  held  out  my  hand. 

"  Good-by,  Norah.     Will  you  shake  hands  ?  " 

"  Of  course."  She  gave  me  a  little  hand  whose 
fingers  felt  warm  against  my  own.  "  Au  revoir" 
She  slipped  through  the  gateway,  leaving  me  the 
memory  of  a  shy  smile. 

I  struck  back  across  the  graveyard,  shouldered 
my  way  through  the  outer  line  of  evergreens,  and 
walked  moodily  homeward. 


XVIII 

NORAH  is  PUZZLED 

As  I  made  my  way  toward  "  Red  Cedars  "  two 
things  became  clear  in  my  mind.  One — by  far  the 
more  important  in  my  present  mood — was  the 
reason  Ellen  and  her  mother  had  dismissed  me  with 
such  peremptory  contempt  four  years  before.  My 
talk  with  Aleck  Westbrook  and  Carlos  Beauchamp, 
reinforced  by  my  conversation  with  Norah,  had 
explained  what  I  had  long  since  come  to  regard  as 
inexplicable.  I  smiled  grimly  as  I  thought  how 
Norah,  striving  to  be  just,  had  yet  taken  the  worst 
for  granted.  Such  was  the  way  of  the  leering  old 
world ! 

The  other  fact  that  I  at  last  understood  was 
the  reason  for  the  forgery.  Ellen's  fortune  had 
been  wasted  by  her  scapegrace  brother — she  herself 
had  admitted  casually  that  they  had  been  badly 
pinched  in  Wall  Street.  Driven  by  what  seemed 
to  her  approaching  poverty,  she  had  taken  advan- 
tage of  the  easy  opportunity  afforded  by  my  pro- 
longed absence  in  the  East  to — bah!  I  disdained 
even  to  formulate  the  thought  in  my  mind. 

So    much    for   my    two   important    discoveries. 
Other  matters  filled  in  the  background  of  my  medi- 
tations: Beauchamp's  contemptible  and  astounding 
effrontery — I  thought  with  infinite  satisfaction  of 

190 


NORAH  IS  PUZZLED  191 

how  I  had  left  him  tottering  wretchedly  between 
Aleck  and  the  stone  wall ;  Mary  Finney's — I  begged 
her  pardon! — Mary  Sutphen's  attempted  recovery 
of  the  incriminating  check — she  must  have  been 
induced  to  undertake  the  theft  by  her  husband, 
instigated  in  his  turn  by  the  guilty  sister.  The- 
resa's effort  in  the  same  direction  puzzled  me — 
unless,  indeed,  it  was  genuine  devotion  to  her  mis- 
tress that  had  led  her  on. 

I  came  back  to  poor  Kitty  Willetts  and  my  own 
blackened  name.  Thanks  to  the  force  of  unhappy 
circumstances — circumstances  damning  enough  on 
the  surface,  I  had  to  admit — my  reputation  was 
hopelessly  ruined.  I  thought  with  gratitude  of 
the  shy  smile  Norah  Westbrook  had  given  me  as  I 
left  her — and  of  the  lingering  warmth  of  her  fin- 
gers. She  had  been  kind  to  me  notwithstanding 
her  opinion  of  my  early  peccadilloes. 

It  was  probably  Beauchamp's  sly  suggestions 
that  had  helped  to  make  the  proof  against  me 
unassailable.  Only  one  man's  evidence  could  have 
helped  me,  and  that  man  was  dead.  I  cursed  the 
fever  that  had  carried  off  my  faithful  friend,  Rex 
Westbrook — he  would  have  stood  by  me.  But, 
thank  Heaven !  I  had  knocked  Carlos  Beauchamp 
senseless. 

A  chipmunk,  suddenly  whisking  into  view  from 
under  a  cedar  hedge,  gave  a  whimsical  and  welcome 
diversion  to  my  thoughts.  If  one  might  be  as 
carefree  as  the  squirrel!  Yet,  perhaps  it  was  only 


192  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

seeming.  To  gather  his  store  of  nuts  against  the 
winter,  to  guard  his  home  from  weasel  and  snake, 
must  be  serious  matters  enough.  Possibly  he 
frisked  about  so  gaily  to  hide  beneath  that  sleek 
pelt  the  beating  of  an  anxious  heart. 

The  hedge  served  to  arouse  me  to  the  fact  that 
I  had  wandered  a  little  from  my  homeward  course. 
Instead  of  bearing  down  the  slope  to  the  lawn  of 
"  Red  Cedars,"  I  was  at  a  point  near  the  road 
that  led  to  "  Westbrook  Place." 

Emerging  from  the  hedge  above  the  highway,  I 
came  upon  an  odd  scene. 

The  carriage  containing  Norah  Westbrook  and 
her  aunt  had  outstripped  me  a  little  on  the  home- 
ward route,  and  was  now  moving  along  the  road 
below  me.  The  horses  were  held  to  a  walk  by  the 
coachman,  and  beside  the  carriage-step  paced  my 
man,  Dirck,  hat  in  hand  and  talking  earnestly. 

This  in  itself  did  not  excite  my  wonder,  for 
Norah  might  have  signalled  him  in  order  to  make 
some  inquiry  as  to  Ellen  or  her  mother.  But  from 
the  roadside  slope  upon  which  I  stood  I  looked  fair 
into  the  faces  of  the  three,  and  what  I  saw  in  each 
puzzled  me  not  a  little.  Miss  Caroline  Westbrook 
was  eying  Dirck  with  an  amused  smile — the  man's 
blue  eyes  were  dancing,  and  Norah  sat  listening  as 
he  talked,  her  lips  parted  as  if  in  a  dream. 

Whether  or  not  Dirck  saw  me  I  do  not  know,  but 
while  I  stood  motionless  a  few  rods  beyond  them, 
he  bowed  profoundly  and  fell  back  from  the  car- 


NORAH  IS  PUZZLED.  193 

rlage-step.  Then  he  faced  about  and  tramped 
away  toward  the  house. 

By  this  time  the  horses,  still  moving  at  a  sedate 
walk,  had  come  opposite  my  position.  Norah, 
glancing  up  suddenly,  recognized  me — with  a  blush, 
I  fancied — and  signalled  the  coachman  to  pull  up. 

I  quitted  the  slope  and,  in  my  turn,  approached 
the  carriage,  hat  in  hand. 

"  *  Like  master,  like  man,'  "  I  said. 

"  A  very  interesting  man  as  well  as  master." 
Norah's  smile  was  frank,  although  I  was  now  sure 
of  the  blush.  "  But  I  don't  understand  him  at  all. 
He — he  positively  burns  one." 

"  *  Look  at  his  independent  air, 
And  his  penetrating  glare ! ' " 

I  hummed. 

"  Well,  he  has,"  she  declared.  "  I  don't  under- 
stand him." 

Miss  Westbrook  laughed  easily.  "  It's  not  at 
all  hard  to  understand,  my  dear.  Mr.  Schuyler 
will  bear  me  out." 

"  If  I  may  hear  the  details,"  I  said  with  curi- 
osity. "  I  don't  quite  know  what  this  is  about." 

"  He  overtook  us — appeared  f  romi  nowhere — 
and  asked  about  you,"  explained  Norah.  "  He 
asked  if  Aleck  and  Mr.  Beauchamp  had  overtaken 
you.  He  seemed  much  interested  for  a  moment." 

"  Very  naturally.     Dirck  is  a  sportsman  through 
and  through." 
13 


194  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

"  Yes,  but  in  the  same  breath  he  asked  me  if  I 
hadn't  once  been  run  over  by  a  fiacre  in  Paris.  I 
once  was,  you  know,  but  how  in  the  world  did  he 
know  that!" 

"  Oh,  he  didn't,"  smiled  Aunt  Caroline.  "  Norah, 
if  I  must  say  it  to  your  face,  you're  very  pretty 
and  attractive  even  to  a  chauffeur.  He  wanted  an 
excuse  to  talk  to  you,  that's  all.  Very  impertinent 
of  him,  but  very  natural." 

"  But  about  the  fiacre?  You  remember,  Aunt 
Caroline,  how " 

"  Of  course  I  do.  Goodness,  child !  Can  I  ever 
forget  it?  I  was  never  so  frightened  in  my  life! 
DuBois  simply  happened  to  hit  on  that.  It's  easy 
to  guess  by  looking  at  you  that  you've  been  in 
Paris  in  your  time." 

"But  why?" 

"  Why,  indeed ! "  laughed  the  older  lady. 
"  What  do  you  think,  Mr.  Schuyler?  " 

"  Oh,  the  vanity  of  this  daughter  of  Eve ! 
Why,  indeed,  Norah!  That  hat — that  coiffure 
under  that  hat — the  heels  of  those  shoes,  those  little 
devils  of  shoes,  as  Dirck  might  say — that  chic  air 
of  yours !  Norah,  I  stand  amazed  that  you  should 
dare  to  fish  for  compliments  in  such  a  brazen  way !  " 

"  Oh,  well " 

"  You  found  Dirck  interesting  even  if — ah — 
peculiar,  didn't  you?  You  rather  encouraged  his 
natural  forwardness  the  other  night,  you  know, 
when  you  praised  him  about  that  emigrant  matter. 


NORAH  IS  PUZZLED  195 

So  you  must  forgive  him  now,  if  he  has  annoyed 
you." 

"  He  hasn't — not  in  the  least.  A  strong  clean- 
looking  Frenchman  is — is " 

"  Is  one  of  the  finest  types  of  men  in  the  world," 
I  finished  for  her. 

«  Ye-es." 

"  Dirck  would  be  charmed  to  know  you  think  so." 

"  You  won't  tell  him !  "  she  exclaimed  in  dismay. 

"  Norah !  "  said  Miss  Westbrook  rather  severely. 
"  Of  course  he  won't.  What  are  you  thinking  of, 
child !  Can't  you  see  he  is  only  teasing  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  of  course.  How  silly  of  me."  Norah's  ex- 
planation seemed  a  bit  forced.  "  I — I  think  I'm 
so  silly  because  it's  hours  since  luncheon,  and  I 
didn't  eat  much  then.  The  tea  and  sandwiches 
will  be  ready  at  home.  Sha'n't  we  go  on,  Aunt 
Caroline?  You'll  come  with  us,  won't  you,  Craig?  " 

"  Thank  you.  I  must  be  getting  to  '  Red 
Cedars '." 

"  Good-by,  then."  She  turned  toward  me  as  the 
horses  began  to  move  off.  "  He — is  rather  burn- 
ing, you  know.  You  must  have  noticed  it  your- 
self." 

The  two  women  were  whirled  away.  I  watched 
the  turnout  up  the  hill — the  carriage,  the  horses, 
the  harness,  and  the  coachman's  livery,  very  black 
and  very  smart. 

Was  it  possible  that  Norah  Westbrook  had 
allowed  her  equanimity  to  be  disturbed  by  Dirck? 


196  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

I  had  never  seen  her  so  fluttered.  She  seemed 
a  different  girl  from  the  one  who  had  gravely  re- 
proached me  among  the  cedars  not  twenty  minutes 
earlier. 

The  look  in  her  eyes  that  had  stirred  me  so 
strangely — the  shy  smile  that  even  now  lingered 
in  my  memory — were  they  really  not  meant  for  me, 
for  my  own  personality,  but  merely  for  a  fellow- 
being  evidently  unhappy  and  therefore  to  be  pitied 
and  soothed? 

At  the  top  of  the  slope  a  handkerchief  fluttered 
above  the  carriage-back — Norah  was  waving  me 
good-by.  Or  could  her  signal  be  an  involuntary 
answer  to 

I  whirled  about — but  there  was  no  one  in  sight ! 


XIX 

LETTERS  FROM  REX 

ARRIVED  at  the  house,  I  promptly  sought  the 
garage. 

Dirck  was  sitting  at  its  entrance,  polishing  the 
lens  of  a  searchlight  to  a  marvellous  brightness, 
and,  incidentally,  chatting  easily  with  the  fair 
Theresa,  who  was  ensconced  on  a  nearby  bench. 
She  stood  up  at  my  approach. 

"  Don't  go  away,  Theresa.  Dirck,  I  feel  that 
I  can  put  your  shoulders  on  the  mat  two  times  out 
of  three  in  ten  minutes." 

"  Ah  ha ! "  said  the  Frenchman,  grinning  with 
pleasure.  "  Monsieur  feels  himself  a  Samson  this 
afternoon.  We  shall  see — we  shall  see!  I  myself 
am  a  Hercules."  He  proceeded  to  divest  himself 
of  his  coat. 

As  I  removed  my  own,  I  saw  Theresa  gazing  in 
genuine  fright  at  our  formidable  preparations. 
Her  Northern-blue  eyes  were  big  and  round. 

"  Sit  down,  Theresa.  You  shall  be  referee — 
Dirck  and  I  often  wrestle  like  this — we  don't  in- 
tend to  hurt  each  other." 

Dirck  laughed  outright  at  Theresa's  relieved  face. 

"  What,  ma'am'selle,  did  you  really  think  mon- 
sieur and  I  were  about  to  fight?  If  we  were  to 
box,  I  would  not  stand  long  before  monsieur. 
Wrestling?  Sometimes  it  is  I  who  win.  You  shall 
see." 

197 


198  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

Stripped  to  our  undershirts  and  trousers,  we 
faced  each  other  across  a  blanket  spread  on  the 
garage  floor.  True  to  the  traditions  of  her  race 
Theresa  had  athletic  tastes  and  she  now  entered 
into  the  duties  of  a  referee  with  great  zest.  No 
Brunhild  or  Gudrun  of  the  North  could  have  been 
more  interested  in  a  feat  of  arms  than  she  was  in 
our  modern  combat.  During  our  three  bouts  she 
flitted  about  our  intertwined  forms  very  knowingly, 
the  respect  she  thought  due  me  vying  ludicrously 
with  her  ardent  desire  to  see  Dirck  win. 

"  Oh,  gracious !  "  she  cried  as  I  gave  Dirck  a  very 
pretty  "  hip  "  that  threw  him  to  the  mat  with  me 
on  top.  "  That's  too  bad — fine,  sir ! "  Dirck 
evaded  my  attempt  at  a  half-Nelson  and  gripping 
my  arm  nearly  rolled  me  under.  "  Good,  good, 
Dirck !  Oh,  that  was  hard  on  you,  sir,  I  do  think." 

At  the  end  of  twenty  minutes  Dirck  had  thrown 
me  twice  out  of  three  times,  and  what  was  more 
to  the  point,  I  had  wrestled  myself  to  exhaustion, 
if  not  altogether  to  contentment  and  happiness. 

"  There  you  are,  Theresa,"  I  said  as  I  put  on  my 
coat,  "  you  see  what  you've  done.  Hercules  has 
beaten  Samson.  Dirck  could  never  have  thrown 
me  if  you  hadn't  been  here  to  inspire  him." 

She  blushed  very  prettily.  "  I'm  sure  I  tried  to 
be  fair  to  both  of  you,  sir." 

"  You  were  fair  enough,  but  I  don't  think  you 
looked  at  me  as  you  looked  at  Dirck.  It  was  your 
looks  that  made  him  win.  Eh,  Dirck?" 


LETTERS  FROM  REX  199 

Dirck  grinned  placidly. 

I  gave  him  instructions  to  go  for  Miss  Sutphen 
with  the  car  at  five  o'clock,  and  sought  my  room. 

A  delicious  bath  and  vigorous  rub-down,  followed 
by  a  good  nap,  put  me  in  a  frame  of  mind  to  appre- 
ciate the  dinner  Dirck  brought  up  to  me  at  seven. 

"  You  brought  Miss  Sutphen  back  all  right?  " 
I  asked  as  he  spread  the  cloth  on  a  little  table  and 
set  out  the  dinner  things. 

"  Yes,  surely,  monsieur.  We  were  in  the  house 
an  hour  ago." 

"How  is  she?" 

"  She  seemed  well,  monsieur — a  little  tired,  per- 
haps." 

"  We  had  a  fairly  hard  day  of  it.  It's  lively 
work  having  a  bloodhound  on  one's  trail." 

"  Yes,  monsieur." 

He  poured  me  a  cup  of  the  strong  coffee  I  had 
asked  for,  and  watched  me  thoughtfully  as  I  sipped 
it. 

"  No  one  can  make  coffee  like  yours,  Dirck.  Do 
you  remember  how  you  had  to  teach  Mina  how  to 
brew  a  decent  cup?  " 

"  Yes,  yes.     Are  the  old  days  gone  forever?  " 

"  I  don't  see  why  they  should  be — they're  there 
waiting  for  us.  You're  willing  to  go  back,  I  sup- 
pose? " 

"  If  you  are." 

"  Speak  up,  Dirck.  I  can  see  you've  something 
weighing  on  your  mind." 


200  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

"  Yes.  Monsieur  was  wondering  last  night  what 
it  was  that  called  Madame  from  her  guests." 

"  I've  heard  since.  The  man  you  thought  The- 
resa sent  away  from  the  kitchen  door  was  young 
Mr.  Sutphen." 

"  Ah,  you  have  heard  the  truth,  then.  Theresa 
carried  a  message  from  Monsieur  Edouard  Sutphen 
to  Madame  his  mother." 

"  Hum,  just  so.     Did  you  learn  anything  else?  " 

He  twisted  his  blonde  moustache,  and  looked  as 
knowing  as  only  a  Frenchman  can. 

"  I  hear  Monsieur  Sutphen  is  a  gay  boy." 

"  I  hope  that's  over  with,  Dirck,  and  that  he's 
ready  to  settle  down.  He's  sown  wild  oats 
enough." 

"  Yes."  His  blue  eyes  met  my  questioning 
glance.  "  Also,  I  heard  that  monsieur  had  a 
charming  visitor  last  night." 

"  The  deuce  you  did !  You  mustn't  believe  all 
you  hear,  Dirck." 

"  Monsieur  keeps  silence,  but,  Theresa  herself 
told  me  that  she  visited  your  room  last  night." 

"  She  said  that !  " 

"  Mais  oui,  monsieur." 

"  It  was  a  crazy  thing  for  her  to  do,  Dirck. 
Did  Theresa  tell  you  what  she  was  after  ?  " 

Laughter  shone  in  my  man's  eyes.  "  Theresa 
has  told  me  her  soul." 

"  Dirck,  are  you  up  to  your  old  tricks  ?  You've 
gone  pretty  fast  in  two  days." 


LETTERS  FROM  REX  201 

He  gave  his  moustache  a  final  satisfied  twist. 
"  I  find  Theresa  amusing.  She  is  more  spirituelle 
than  I  had  thought  her  at  first.  She  is  one  to  be 
counted  on." 

"How  so?" 

"  Theresa  tried  to  obtain  the  cheque  from  your 
room  only  because  of  her  devotion  to  Mademoiselle." 

"  You  believe  that,  do  you?  If  that's  so,  it  cer- 
tainly speaks  well  for  her  loyalty." 

"  Without  doubt.  She  has  been  with  Mademoi- 
selle Sutphen  several  years  and  she  loves  her. 
Mademoiselle  confides  everything  to  her." 

I  noted  the  conviction  in  his  tone.  "  Look  here, 
man.  Be  careful  how  you  carry  on  with  Theresa. 
You  don't  want  to  break  a  susceptible  heart,  you 
know." 

*'  No  fear.  She  thinks  she  is  breaking  my  heart. 
Hers  has  been  broken  a  thousand  times  already. 
To  tell  the  truth,  I  think  that  she  and  the  good 
Jordan  are  fiancee.  She  makes  a  pastime  of  me — 
and  I  am  but  devoted  enough  to  make  her  talk." 

"  All  right — but  don't  burn  your  fingers — or 
hers." 

"  Impossible ! " 

When  he  had  removed  the  dinner  things,  I  had 
him  bring  up  a  book  from  the  library — I  wanted 
to  keep  from  thinking  of  my  own  affairs.  I  drew 
up  an  easy  chair  close  to  the  little  table  and  had 
Dirck  shade  the  electric  reading-lamp  to  a  proper 
softness. 


202  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

"  Who  was  at  dinner  to-night  ?  " 

"  Only  Madame  and  Mademoiselle,  I  believe. 
Monsieur  Westbrook  called  just  now — he  stayed 
but  a  few  minutes.  Theresa  says  he  brought  a 
note  for  Mademoiselle." 

I  let  him  go  reluctantly — has  presence  was  at 
least  a  partial  distraction.  When  he  had  gone 
at  last,  I  sat  down  in  smoking  jacket  and  lounging 
shoes  to  read. 

Although  I  was  determined  not  to  think  of  what 
I  had  learned  that  day,  yet  in  spite  of  the  charm- 
ing pages  of  "  The  Last  of  the  Mohicans,"  the 
great  fact  persistently  presented  itself — Ellen  Sut- 
phen  had  thrust  me  from  her  life,  four  years  before, 
because  she  had  believed  me  unworthy  the  love  of 
a  pure  woman. 

Hawkeye's  faithful  Killdeer  might  pour  its  fatal 
contents  on  the  Mingo  knaves,  Le  Cerf  Agile  might 
come  bounding  like  a  deer,  Cora's  dark  tresses 
might  arouse  the  passion  of  all  the  redskins  of  the 
Horicon,  yet  I  could  not  escape  the  conclusion  that 
my  life  had  been  distorted — it  was  no  use  mincing 
matters! — ruined!  because  of  the  hasty  judgment 
of  a  high-spirited  girl.  And  that  judgment — that 
headlong  conclusion — could  not  be  altered — for 
what  was  my  bare  word  against  the  fatal  logic  of 
circumstances !  Nothing,  and  worse  than  nothing. 

Three  times  I  read  doggedly  that  stirring  chap- 
ter where  Hawkeye  and  his  companions  hold  the 
island  against  Magua  and  the  Iroquois.  On  the 


LETTERS  FROM  REX  203 

third  reading  the  words  at  last  conveyed  some  mean- 
ing to  my  mind — I  read  on  triumphant. 

I  had  dived  with  Chingachcook  through  the 
rapids  below  the  island,  waddled  with  Hawkeye  in 
the  bear's  fur  to  the  rescue  of  Alice,  and  bounded 
with  Uncas  amid  the  wigwams  of  the  enemy,  when 
I  heard  a  light  tap  at  the  door. 

As  I  laid  down  my  book  in  response,  I  glanced 
at  my  watch — it  was  past  ten  o'clock.  The  knock 
was  repeated. 

"  Is  that  you,  Dirck?  "  I  called.     "  Come  in." 

No  one  came  in,  but  again  the  tap  sounded — 
gentle,  insistent,  appealing.  I  had  the  door  open 
in  an  instant — Ellen  Sutphen  was  standing  in 
the  dim  light  of  the  hall. 

Her  eyes  met  mine,  but  it  was  too  dark  for  me  to 
make  out  their  expression.  The  band  of  light  from 
my  opened  door  illumined  only  the  lower  part  of  her 
face — her  lips  were  parted,  and  her  breath  came  a 
little  pantingly.  One  of  her  hands  held  something 
to  her  breast,  the  other  was  outstretched  as  I  swung 
the  door  wider. 

"  Craig,  I  only  wanted  to " 

I  caught  her  extended  hand.  "  Is  anything  the 
matter,  Nell?" 

An  instant  her  fingers  touched  mine,  then  flut- 
tered away  from  me  and  fell  to  her  side. 

"  Craig — I  couldn't  sleep  without  giving  you 
these"  She  thrust  a  couple  of  letters  into  my  hand 
and  was  gone  before  I  could  speak. 


204  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

At  the  far  end  of  the  hall,  she  stood  an  instant, 
looking  back.  Something  in  her  attitude  —  the  in- 
clination of  the  neck,  the  foot  not  yet  firmly  planted 
—  told  me  that  she  had  half  a  mind  to  return.  The 
doorway  of  her  room  framed  her  —  the  white  neck, 
the  delicate  curve  of  the  cheek.  Then  she  moved 
forward  and  the  closing  door  shut  off  my  view. 

I  examined  the  letters  under  the  reading-lamp. 
One  was  addressed  in  a  man's  handwriting,  simply  : 
"  Norah."  The  other  bore  the  direction  :  "  Miss 
Ellen  Sutphen,  Red  Cedars."  I  chose  to  open  the 
latter  first. 


ELLEN: 

"  This  afternoon  Aleck  came  home  with  Mr.  Beauchamp 
from  the  run  after  you,  and  after  that  gentleman  (?)  was  out 
of  the  way,  Aleck  told  me  the  strangest  thing  —  indeed,  several 
strange  things.  Did  you  know  Craig  Schuyler  knocked  Mr. 
Beauchamp  senseless  this  afternoon?  But  of  course  you 
don't,  for  he  would  never  tell  you.  Aleck  says  Craig  struck 
him  a  terrible  blow  —  and  it  served  him  right.  But  that's 
what  I'm  trying  to  tell  you  about.  Aleck  told  me  all  about 
how  it  happened  and  what  Craig  said  to  him  afterward— 
Craig  was  splendidly  angry.  Something  Aleck  told  me  Craig 
said  to  him  set  me  thinking  about  dear  Rex. 

"  You  know  since  Rex  died  we've  never  had  the  heart 
to  disturb  any  of  his  private  papers  —  his  writing  desk  in  his 
'  den  '  has  always  stood  just  as  it  was  the  last  time  he  sat 
there  —  I  mean  it  did  until  two  hours  ago.  Well,  what  Aleck 
said  set  me  thinking.  Nell,  I  went  straight  to  Rex's  desk 
and  in  the  very  first  drawer  I  opened  I  found  a  letter  ad- 
dressed to  me  —  it  had  been  waiting  for  me  all  these  years, 
and  oh!  how  sorry  I  am  I  didn't  find  it  long  ago.  I  send 
you  the  letter  —  it's  for  you  to  read  more  than  anyone  else, 
dear.  To  think  how  we've  wronged  Craig,  in  our  thoughts, 


LETTERS  FROM  REX  205 

at  least,  all  these  years,  and  he's  been  so  silent  about  it  all. 
Aunt  Caroline  has  already  had  a  talk  with  Mr.  Beauchamp, 
and  he  left  the  house — and  our  acquaintance— half  an  hour 
ago.  How  fine  Craig  has  been.  I  feel  so  very,  very  humbled. 

"  NORAH." 

My  mind  in  a  whirl,  I  opened  the  other  letter — 
addressed  in  Rex's  handwriting  to  Norah.  It  read 
as  follows: 

"  DEAR  LITTLE  SISTER: 

"  I've  felt  rather  mopey  for  several  days  and  Dr.  Hudson 
has  just  told  me  that  I've  got  a  touch  of  fever.  I  could  see 
by  his  manner  that  it's  going  to  be  more  than  a  touch,  so 
I'm  writing  you  this  in  case  anything  happens.  I'm  writing 
you  because  it's  a  queer  world  and  sometime  people  may  say 
unpleasant  things  about  the  finest  chap  that  ever  lived — I 
mean  Craig  Schuyler. 

"  You're  still  in  school,  Chicken,  but  I  think  you  know 
who  Miss  Katherine  Willetts  is — the  daughter  of  Mr.  Elwood 
Willetts.  Will  you  be  surprised  when  I  tell  you  I  was  once 
in  love  with  Kitty  Willetts?  Perhaps  I  am  yet — I'm  not 
sure.  The  Willetts  aren't  quite  our  sort,  but  Kitty  is  the 
sweetest;  most  lovable  girl  in  the  world — I  mean  she  used  to 
be.  Well,  I  won't  talk  about  that. 

"  Three  years  ago  I  asked  her  to  marry  me.  She  flatly 
refused — she  talked  about  a  difference  in  our  social  position 
and  all  that.  I  asked  her  again  and  again  but  she  always 
refused  me — besides,  she  would  never  admit  she  cared  for 
me  at  all.  So  I  gave  her  up,  and  we  haven't  even  been 
friends  for  a  long  time. 

"It  isn't  easy  to  tell  a  schoolgirl  like  you — but  a  year 
ago  a  man  named  Carlos  Beauchamp — an  Englishman — got 
to  be  friends  with  Kitty.  Chicken,  he  got  to  be  too  friendly 
— do  you  understand  me? — and  then  he  deserted  her  like  the 
scoundrel  he  is.  If  you  don't  quite  understand,  get  Aunt 
Caroline  to  explain  to  you. 


206  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

"  Here  is  where  dear  old  Craig  Schuyler  coines  in.  I 
was  a  good  deal  cut  up  when  I  heard  about  Kitty  and 
Beauchamp,  but  I  couldn't  do  anything.  I  hadn't  any  claim 
on  her — besides,  after  what  had  happened  I  felt  as  if  I  never 
wanted  to  see  her.  I  spoke  to  Craig  about  how  I  felt  and 
he's  been  true  blue.  He's  seen  old  Mr.  Willetts  and  Kitty 
for  me — he's  made  things  comfortable  for  them,  and  I  know 
if  anything  happens  he  won't  let  Kitty  suffer. 

"  I  can  see  now  that  what  Craig's  done  for  me  may  put 
him  in  a  bad  light,  if  it  ever  comes  out.  That's  the  reason 
I'm  telling  you  all  this — so  you'll  know  that  what  Craig  has 
done  he's  done  because  he's  a  real  friend — the  most  loyal  one 
that  ever  breathed.  Chicken,  I've  been  glad  so  often  that 
you  and  he  are  such  chums.  When  you  grow  up,  if  Craig 
ever  wants  you  to  be  more  than  his  chum,  I  hope  you'll  give 
him  a  chance. 

"Your  just-now-rather-droopy 

"  but  always-affectionate 
"  ma  gnus  f  rater, 

"  REX." 

Below  this  was  pencilled  a  single  line  in  a  differ- 
ent handwriting: 

"If  Norah  is  humbled,  what  am  I? 

"  ELLEH." 

I  read  through  both  letters  again,  and  sat  staring 
long  at  the  line  in  Ellen's  handwriting.  Then,  my 
mind  still  in  a  whirl,  I  slowly  undressed.  I  went  to 
bed,  but  not  to  sleep. 


XX 

ASHES  OF  THE  STARS 

AFTER  tossing  for  an  hour  or  more,  with  sleep 
as  far  from  me  as  ever,  I  resolved  to  make  a  raid 
on  the  library  and  read  myself  into  a  comatose 
condition,  if  not  into  a  somnolent  one. 

Acting  on  the  thought,  I  arose,  got  into  some 
clothes,  and  slipped  downstairs.  A  single  light 
was  burning  in  the  hallway,  my  shadow  danced 
weirdly  on  the  wall,  the  house  was  very  still.  I  had 
somewhat  the  feelings  of  a  burglar  as  I  stole  from 
step  to  step. 

The  light  shed  a  yellow  glow  over  a  small  marble 
Venus — a  copy  of  one  of  Benvenuto  Cellini's — set 
on  a  table  in  the  wide  hall.  The  figure  seemed  to 
shrink  from  the  bold  eyes  of  the  stranger  who  came 
stealthily  down  the  stairs.  I  smiled  to  think  how 
much  the  redoubtable  Benvenuto  would  have  felt  at 
home  in  my  situation,  with  all  its  suggestion  of  gal- 
lant adventure.  Doubtless  he  would  have  made 
brisk  use  of  the  stillness  and  the  night,  perhaps, 
also,  of  his  power — had  he  had  such  means  to  en- 
force his  will  as  I  had. 

As  I  entered  the  library  my  eye  was  caught  by 
the  red  glow  from  the  open  fire-place.  A  fire  of 
oak  logs  had  been  laid  earlier  in  the  evening,  and  a 
goodly  pile  of  embers  was  still  left  from  the  slow- 

207 


208  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

burning  wood.  It  turned  a  ruddy  face  invitingly 
toward  me. 

Two  or  three  armchairs,  deep-seated  and  high- 
backed,  stood  about  the  hearth  where,  perhaps,  they 
had  been  drawn  during  Aleck  Westbrook's  call. 
Here  was  a  place  to  muse  and  drowse. 

I  approached  and  was  about  to  sink  into  a  seat 
when  the  shifting  embers  threw  a  sudden  light  on 
the  chair  next  mine.  I  stared — the  rosy  glow  was 
reflected  from  what  seemed  a  curtain.  As  I  gazed 
the  curtain  took  shape — I  recognized  Ellen 
Sutphen. 

At  the  same  instant  she  must  have  seen  my  shadow 
dancing  grotesquely  on  the  wall — she  glanced  up. 
Her  low  cry  of  terror  was  changed  into  a  gasp  of 
consternation  as  she  realized  I  was  not  a  burglar. 
She  sprang  to  her  feet. 

I  saw  the  firelight  sparkle  upon  neck  and  arms, 
and  upon  little  feet — all  as  hot  with  blushes  as  the 
embers  with  flame. 

"  Sit  down,  sit  down !  "  I  cautioned.  "  That  big 
chair  will  make  your  best  hiding-place.  If  you 
run,  Nell,  I  vow  I'll  watch  you  every  step  of  the 
way — I'm  human  enough  to  take  advantage  of  what 
the  gods  throw  in  my  way,  you  know.  I  ought  to 
let  you  stand  there  where  the  light  can  shine  on 
you,  but  I'm  honest  enough  to  tell  you  the  chair 
will  make  you  a  regular  tent." 

She  had  already  sunk  into  her  seat,  consternation 
in  every  motion. 


ASHES  OF  THE  STARS  209 

"  If — if  you  have  any  decency,  you'll  go  away — 
at  once,  and  you  won't  look  back." 

"  Decency  isn't  supposed  to  be  my  strong  point. 
No,  no,  if  you  will  wander  about  the  house  late  at 
night  in  fluffy  negligee  you  must  abide  the  conse- 
quences." 

"  It  isn't  very  late,"  she  returned  defensively. 
"  I  couldn't  sleep,  so  I  just  came  down  here  to  get 
a  book,  and  then  I  saw  the  fire  and " 

"  Precisely  my  case !  Lucky  we  met !  Now  we 
can  entertain  each  other — that's  ever  so  much  nicer 
than  being  alone,  isn't  it?" 

"  Will  you  go  away?  " 

"  Quite   impossible." 

"  Well,  then,  will  you  shut  your  eyes  and  promise 
not  to  open  them  for  five  minutes  ?  " 

"  Eyes  are  for  use.  You  know  what  the  old  wolf 
said  to  Red  Riding-Hood :  *  The  better  to  see  you 
with,  my  dear.' ' 

"  You  are  a  wolf ! "  She  caught  her  breath 
sharply.  "  Oh,  no,  Craig,  I  don't  mean  that,  in- 
deed I  don't!" 

"  So  you  withdraw  the  accusation  that  I'm  a 
wolf?  You're  thinking  about  those  letters — 
Rex's?" 

"  Ye-es.     I  was  only  nineteen,  Craig." 

"  Don't  bring  the  matter  up — yet.  I  don't  know 
what  to  think.  Four  years  of  torture  on  account 
of  a  shameful " 

"  Craig,  I  want  to  tell  you " 

14 


210  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

"  I  think  we'd  better  let  it  drop,  for  the  present, 
at  any  rate.  I  might  say  something  desperate — 
something  that  would  disgrace  me  in  my  own  eyes 
as  well  as  in  yours — and  I  want  to  be  half-way 
decent — if  I  won't  close  my  eyes." 

I  could  hear  her  settling  herself  more  snugly  into 
her  chair.  "  I  don't  believe  you  can  see  me,  at  any 
rate."  There  was  a  note  of  defiance  in  her  voice. 

"  Well,  not  you,  exactly." 

"  Not •     What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Oh,  nothing.  '  This  little  pig  went  to  market,*  r 
I  quoted  gravely. 

"What?" 

"  *  This  little  pig  stayed  at  home.'  " 

"  I  never  heard  such  nonsense." 

'*  *  This  little  pig  had  rare  roast  beef — this  little 
pig  had  none.' ' 

"  Are  you  crazy,  Craig?  " 

"  *  This  little  pig  cried '  " 

"  O-o-h !  "  It  was  a  horrified  gurgle.  Her  foot 
scrambled  desperately  under  cover.  "  Craig !  you 
didn't  see  them  really  ?  " 

"  I  was  merely  quoting  some  poetry  acquired  in 
my  early  youth." 

"  These  Turkish  sandals  haven't  any  tops  to 
them,"  she  said  plaintively.  "  It  isn't  my  fault." 

"  I  should  say  not — not  even  your  misfortune. 
I  assure  you  they  looked  very  pretty." 

"  Please — I  wish  you  wouldn't  tease  me  so." 

"  It's  too  good  a  chance  to  lose.     It  isn't  every 


ASHES  OF  THE  STARS  211 

day — night,  I  mean — I  can  catch  a  charming  girl 
in — ah — evening  dress,  sitting  by  the  light  of  the 
library  fire." 

"  It's  very  improper  for  us  to  be  here — this  way. 
You  know  it  is." 

"  Madam  Grundy  is  asleep  upstairs,  I  fancy — 
110  disrespect  to  your  mother." 

"  Yes.     But  what  about  Mademoiselle  Grundy?  " 

"  You  don't  mean  the  fair  Theresa?  " 

"  Of  course.  What  would  she  think  if  she  should 
find  us?  She's  as  formal  as  anyone  and " 

My  laughter  interrupted  her.  "  Theresa  in  the 
role  of  Miss  Grundy !  "  I  paused  long  enough  to 
let  the  significance  of  my  tone  sink  into  her  mind. 
"  Nell,  don't  you  imagine  Theresa  has  floated 
around  in  airy  costume  in  her  time?  Mind,  I  say 
*  imagine ' — of  course,  you  don't  know  anything 
about  it." 

"  She  has  never  been  in  any  such  situation  as  this, 
I  hope." 

If  I  could  have  seen  her  face,  doubtless  I  would 
have  detected  a  telltale  flush  or  pallor,  but  save  for 
an  elbow  and  forearm,  she  was  hidden  in  the  recesses 
of  the  great  chair.  I  would  have  defied  the  most 
acute  ear  to  detect  in  her  words  any  knowledge  that 
Theresa  had  ever  invaded  my  room.  Her  duplicity 
was  of  a  consummate  sort. 

A  few  drops  of  sap  surviving  in  an  oak  log 
hissed  as  the  heat  parched  it  at  last.  A  piece  of 
bark  fell  away  with  a  purring  crackle,  and  was 


I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 


received  into  the  fiery  embrace  of  the  embers  below 
it.  A  white  line,  where  the  ashes  had  cooled,  began 
to  form  on  the  fire's  periphery. 

I  leaned  forward  and  took  the  poker  from  the 
brass  stand. 

"  Craig  !  "  she  said,  indignantly  slewing  round 
her  chair.  "  Don't  be  mean  !  " 

"  What's  the  matter?  I  really  want  to  poke  up 
the  fire." 

"  It's  quite  bright  enough." 

"  All  right,"  I  said  resignedly.  I  drew  idle 
figures  in  the  widening  rim  of  ashes.  "  The  Malays 
believe  one  can  find  out  things  in  the  ashes,  you 
know  —  the  future  and  all  that." 

"  That's  very  interesting,  but  if  you  don't  mind 
waiting  till  to-morrow  -  " 

"  Oh,  don't  go."  I  glanced  around  far  enough 
to  make  her  cower  back  in  her  chair.  "  Hum-m  ! 
as  I  was  saying,  the  Malays  think  Truth  lies  in  the 
ashes." 

"  Poor  thing  !  I  should  fancy  she  would  smother 
there  —  or  perhaps  sneeze." 

"  I  sha'n't  be  put  off  by  sarcasms.  I'm  trying 
to  tell  you  what  a  Sumatran  anting  —  an  anting  is 
a  sort  of  '  conjure  woman  '  —  what  she  prophesied 
about  me  —  and  you." 

"  About  me  ?     What  nonsense,  Craig  !  " 

"  You  can  judge  for  yourself.  You  won't  slip 
away,  if  I  go  on  ?  " 

«No-o—  I  think  I  won't." 


ASHES  OF  THE  STARS 

"  Well,  then,  this  anting  wasn't  a  hideous  old 
hag — yellow  as  clay,  shaggy  eyebrows,  eyes  like 
pieces  of  coal,  face  all  seamed  with  wrinkles — such 
as  you  read  about.  She  wasn't  that  sort  at  all. 
She  was  very  pretty  in  her  way,  not  more  than 
eighteen  or  twenty,  and  lived  in  a  palmleaf  hut  on 
a  mountain." 

"  It  sounds  very  romantic.  No  wonder  you  con- 
sulted her  about  your  fortune." 

"  Naturally.  A  friend  of  mine  and  I  made  a 
pilgrimage  to  her  hut  to  learn  what  we  could." 

"  A  girl?  " 

"  I  said  she  was  a  young  woman  of  twenty  or  so." 

"  I  mean  the  friend  who  went  with  you." 

"  Yes — Tawa — and  her  attendants." 

"  Oh." 

"  When  we  got  to  the  hut,  it  was  night.  The 
anting  built  a  little  fire  of  dry  sticks,  and  let  it 
burn  to  ashes — like  these." 

I  made  a  smooth  surface  to  the  ashes  with  my 
poker,  and  drew  some  lines  on  it.  "  There.  Can 
you  make  that  out,  Nell  ?  " 

She  lifted  her  head  cautiously,  her  feet  tucked 
well  in.  "What  is  it? — a  triangle?" 

"  Yes.  She  told  me  to  look  along  one  side  of 
the  triangle  and  continue  the  line  right  out  into 
space  until  it  reached  a  star — we  were  on  a  moun- 
tain, you  remember.  I  did  as  she  told  me  and  my 
line  struck  the  evening  star."  I  paused  a  moment. 
"  The  evening  star,  Nell." 


I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 


"  Ye-es  —  I  remember,"  she  said  faintly. 

"  I  pointed  out  the  star  to  her,  and  she  care- 
fully examined  it.  Then  Tawa  followed  out  her 
side  of  the  triangle,  but  it  didn't  touch  any  star  at 
all  —  I  could  see  that  puzzled  the  anting  girl.  She 
smoothed  out  the  ashes  and  drew  another  triangle 
and  made  Tawa  try  again.  But  it  turned  out  the 
same  way  —  her  line  simply  reached  into  space." 

"  It  must  have  been  a  queer  scene.  I  can  see 
it  —  the  starlit  valley,  and  the  dark  faces  over  the 
fire.  Didn't  they  wear  the  most  fascinating  cos- 
tumes? " 

"  Hum  !  They  were  dressed  even  a  trifle  more 
lightly  than  you  are  now." 

"Dreadful!" 

"  Not  at  all.  It  was  strictly  the  custom,  and 
the  costume,  of  the  country.  Anything  more  would 
have  been  rank  affectation." 

"  I  see.     What  happened?  " 

"  The  anting  pondered  a  long  time.  Then  she 
said  something  about  like  this  :  *  The  Tuan  '  —  that 
was  I,  you  know  —  *  the  Tuan  has  had  one  great 
sorrow  in  his  life  —  he  will  have  another  very  soon. 
After  the  Tuan's  second  sorrow  he  will  return 
whence  he  came,  and  there  his  first  sorrow  may  be- 
come his  third  —  no  one  knows,  not  even  the  ashes 
of  the  stars.'" 

"  The  ashes  of  the  stars  !  What  a  pretty  idea. 
I  suppose  you  are  making  up  all  this  as  you  go 
along,  Craig?  " 


ASHES  OF  THE  STARS  215 

"  I  give  you  my  word  everything  happened  ex- 
actly as  I'm  telling  it." 

"  But  what  did  the  woman  say  about  Tawa?  " 

"  At  first  she  refused  to  say  anything,  but  when 
we  insisted  she  led  me  aside  and  said :  '  I  have  told 
the  Tuan  he  would  have  a  second  great  sorrow  very 
soon.'  That  was  all  I  could  get  out  of  her." 

Ellen  gave  a  long  sigh.  "  And  it  turned  out  just 
as  she  said.  Poor  Tawa !  " 

I  demolished  the  triangle  of  ashes  by  a  sweep  of 
the  poker.  *'  At  any  rate,  the  first  sorrow  can't 
become  a  third  sorrow — that's  already  proved." 

"  The  prophecy  was  silly,  of  course." 

"  The  third  sorrow  meant  you.  Well,  you're  in 
a  position — I  mean  I'm  in  an  attitude  of  mind 
where " 

"  It'll  sound  better  if  I  say  it,"  she  interrupted 
sweetly.  "  You  mean  anything  I  may  say  or  do  is 
totally  indifferent  to  you." 

"  Not  that  at  all.  I  only  mean  that  I'm  enjoy- 
ing so  much  grinding  you  down  that  the  first  sor- 
row has  become  a  pleasure.  The  ashes  of  the  stars, 
do  you  see?  " 

"  Yes." 

We  were  silent  for  a  while,  both  sunk  in  the 
depths  of  our  chairs  and  gazing  absently  at  the  fire. 

"  Craig,"  she  said  at  last,  "  how  long  do  you 
intend  to  keep  me  here.  It's  dreadfully  late — if 
anyone  should  come  down  I  don't  know  what  I'd 
do." 


216  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

"  I  don't  believe  it's  twelve  o'clock  yet — ridicu- 
lously early." 

"But— I'm  cold,  Craig." 

"  Honest  and  true,  now!     Are  you?  " 

"  We-ell,  perhaps  not  so  very." 

Again  we  were  silent.  Into  the  silence  stole  a 
faint  sound.  My  hearing,  from  years  of  outdoor 
life,  is  unusually  acute — what  I  heard,  or  fancied 
I  heard,  was  a  scraping  outside  one  of  the  long 
windows. 

"What's  that?"  I  asked  carelessly.  "That 
noise?  " 

"What  noise?  I  didn't  hear  anything.  Good- 
ness !  I  hope  mother  isn't  prowling  about." 

"  No,  it  seemed  to  be  on  the  porch  out  there." 

"  Maybe  it  was  a  cat." 

"  Of  course,"  I  assured  her.  "  I  don't  hear 
anything  now,  at  any  rate." 

Nor  did  I  at  the  moment,  but  a  little  later,  listen- 
ing intently,  I  heard  the  sound  again,  unmistakable 
to  my  trained  senses — the  fall  of  a  stealthy  foot  on 
the  porch  just  outside  the  long  window. 

Sinking  deeper  than  ever  into  my  chair,  and 
turning  my  head  with  the  utmost  caution,  I  stared 
at  the  window.  The  long  curtains  left  a  triangle 
of  dark  pane  exposed.  Although  there  was  no 
moon  the  stars  were  out  and  the  night  was  clear. 

Between  the  stars  and  the  window-pane  a  dark 
bulk  loomed — or  did  I  only  imagine  it?  Was  there 
or  was  there  not  a  white  smudse — a  human  face — 


ASHES  OF  THE  STARS  217 

set  close  against  the  glass  in  an  effort  to  peer  into 
the  room?  I  could  not  have  sworn  either  way. 
The  shadow  of  the  porch  hid  what  the  starlight 
might  have  revealed. 

If  there  were  a  face,  it  could  see  nothing — the 
fire  was  only  a  red  eye  that  made  the  room  darker 
by  contrast — Ellen  and  I  were  concealed  by  the 
high  backs  of  the  chairs.  A  footstep — or  the  wind 
— sounded  as  if  moving  away  from  the  window. 

By  and  by  Ellen  spoke  softly — she  could  have 
heard  or  seen  nothing.  "  Are  you  asleep,  Craig?  " 

"  Not  quite.     On  the  way,  though." 

"  If  only  you'd  been  dreaming,  I  would  have 
escaped." 

"  I  thought  you  were  suspiciously  quiet." 

"  Yes — perhaps.  I  was  thinking  of  your  anting 
girl  and  the  ashes  of  the  stars." 

"  We  climbed  toward  the  stars  in  our  time, 
Nell." 

"  Do  you  remember? — how  we  vowed  we'd  find 
the  little  gold  ball  that  lies  under  the  evening 
star?" 

"  Per  aspera  ad  astra,  you  know — but  our  aspera 
have  come  since — after  we  had  reached  the  stars, 
or  thought  we'd  reached  them,  I  mean." 

"  Yes.     What  a  long  time  ago !  " 

"  That  night?  Do  you  remember  how  we  walked 
for  hours  and  somehow  we  couldn't  get  fairly  under 
the  one  star?  On  top  of  that  hill  near  Tarnsdale 
we  had  to  give  it  up." 


218  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

"  That  was  in  another  world,  Craig." 

"  We  gave  it  up,  but  we  didn't  care.  When  we 
were  through  laughing  over  it,  our  faces  were  very 
close  together.  We  leaned  toward  each  other, 
and " 

"Don't!     Oh,  don't!" 

"The  ashes  of  the  stars,  Nell." 

We  were  silent  a  long  time.  At  last  I  heard  a 
rustle,  and  then  cautious  footsteps.  I  waited,  and 
when  I  looked  around  her  chair  was  empty. 


XXI 

A  COLD  BATH 

WHEN  I  had  allowed  Ellen  time  to  reach  her 
room,  I  hurried  to  my  own.  There  I  pressed  the 
bell  that  communicated  with  Dirck's  quarters  at 
the  rear  of  the  house,  and  pending  his  arrival,  I 
rummaged  through  my  things. 

Dirck  did  not  appear,  and  I  rang  for  him  again 
and  again.  I  was  drawing  my  pair  of  Colt's  re- 
volvers from  their  case,  when  I  heard  his  discreet 
knock.  I  opened  the  door. 

"  Gad !  you  must  have  been  sleeping  like  a  log," 
I  said.  "  I've  been  ringing  ten  minutes,  more  or 
less." 

"  I  am  sorry,  monsieur."  His  eyes  fell  on  the 
blued  steel  in  my  hand.  "  You  clean  your  pistols 
late." 

I  waved  the  barrel  toward  the  table.  "  There's 
the  other  for  you.  Don't  clean  it — load  it.  It 
may  be  more  useful  that  way." 

"  Ah? "  He  spun  the  cylinder  with  a  skilful 
thumb,  and  deftly  slipped  the  cartridges  in  place. 
"  Is  there  a  hope  of  using  these — perhaps  a  chance 
of  something  of  interest  in  this  peaceful  country?  " 

"  There's  a  bare  possibility." 

His  delighted  eyes  questioned  me.  "  Without 
doubt,  Monsieur  Beauchamp  has  sent  his  challenge 
for  the  breaking  of  his  jaw  this  afternoon." 

219 


I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 


"  Where  did  you  hear  about  that?  "  I  asked  curi- 
ously. 

"  Theresa  heard  it  from  Mademoiselle  West- 
brook's  maid,  monsieur  —  and  she  heard  a  discussion 
between  the  aunt  of  mademoiselle  and  Monsieur 
Beauchamp.  But  surely  the  meeting  cannot  be 
before  dawn." 

"  You're  on  the  wrong  tack,  Dirck.  It  isn't 
Beauchamp  we're  going  after.  I  saw  a  man  lurk- 
ing about  the  front  of  the  house  a  few  minutes  ago. 
I  was  in  the  library  and  caught  a  glimpse  of  him 
on  the  porch,  or  thought  I  did." 

"  Ah,  a  robber?  " 

"  It  looks  that  way.  Now,  if  you're  ready, 
we'll  see  what  we  can  see.  Let's  try  the  library 
first  —  he  seemed  to  be  interested  in  a  window 
there." 

As  quietly  as  if  we  ourselves  had  been  a  pair  of 
burglars,  we  stole  downstairs  and  into  the  library. 
Here  even  the  red  eye  of  the  fire  had  faded  to 
blackness.  I  almost  stumbled  over  the  armchair, 
empty  of  the  white-robed  figure  that  had  lately 
occupied  it. 

We  listened  and  peered  by  the  long  window.  No 
shape  shut  off  the  starlight,  and  no  sound  dis- 
turbed the  night  except  the  sighing  of  the  chill 
autumn  wind  about  the  corners  of  the  house.  The 
loneliest  sound  in  the  world  ! 

"  I  wonder  if  I  could  have  been  mistaken.  What 
do  you  think,  Dirck?" 


A  COLD  BATH 


"  I  do  not  think  so.  Monsieur's  eyes  and  ears 
are  good." 

"  I  hardly  think  I  could  myself.  We'll  try  the 
other  rooms." 

Holding  our  breath,  our  revolvers  ready,  we 
searched  the  drawing-room  —  without  result.  Then 
we  slipped  across  the  hall  and  felt  about  the  other 
rooms,  penetrating  every  alcove  and  shaking  every 
window  curtain.  Still  no  sign  of  any  night 
marauder. 

"  I  think  there  isn't  any  use  trying  the  back 
of  the  house.  One  of  these  long  windows  would  be 
the  natural  thing  to  use  a  jimmy  on  —  or  a  dia- 
mond." 

"  Yes,  monsieur.  Even  if  not,  to  climb  a  col- 
umn of  the  porch  would  be  easy  —  it  would  need 
but  a  short  ladder." 

"  The  second  story  !  I  hadn't  thought  of  that. 
By  Jove!  suppose  some  thug  with  a  mask  and 
blackjack  and  red  pepper  is  poking  about  up  there 
now!" 

"  If  we  go  outside  the  house  we  can  soon  tell. 
If  the  robber  has  entered  an  upper  window,  with- 
out doubt  he  has  left  a  ladder  so  that  he  can  escape 
if  anything  should  alarm  him.  The  stars  are  out 
—  we  can  soon  see." 

We  went  back  to  the  library,  unlocked  and 
opened  a  window,  and  stepped  out  on  the  porch. 
In  another  minute  we  were  on  the  gravelled  walk  in 
front  of  the  house. 


I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

The  night  was  clear  and  the  stars  twinkled  in 
frosty  aloofness.  My  ruddy-faced  friend,  Scorpio, 
waved  a  jovial  claw  at  me.  Obeying  his  motion 
I  turned  until  I  saw,  very  pure  and  bright,  the 
evening  star  at  an  infinite  distance — Nell  and  I 
had  once  sought  the  little  gold  ball  beneath  it. 
The  midnight  wind  suddenly  bit  keenly  through  my 
somewhat  scanty  attire. 

The  house  was  sunk  in  slumber.  The  windows 
of  the  upper  stories  looked  darkly  down,  everyone 
plain  enough  in  the  clear  starlight — the  length  of 
the  porch  was  bare  of  ladder  or  pole.  For  the 
first  time  I  began  to  have  serious  doubts  that  I  had 
heard  footsteps  on  the  porch,  or  had  seen  the  white 
smudge  of  a  face  against  the  window-pane. 

We  moved  cautiously  along  the  grassy  border 
of  the  walk  to  the  corner  of  the  house.  There  we 
halted  in  the  shadow  of  a  blue  spruce,  and  exam- 
ined the  north  side. 

Dirck  touched  my  arm  and  pointed  upward.  A 
light  was  burning  behind  the  closed  curtains  of  a 
second-story  room — Ellen's.  Perhaps  she  was 
slowly  preparing  for  bed,  her  mind  running  over 
our  adventure  in  the  library  and — I  liked  to  think 
— brooding  over  the  ashes  of  the  stars. 

As  on  the  other  face  of  the  house,  there  was  no 
indication  of  any  would-be  violator  of  its  sanctity. 
I  was  about  to  continue  our  patrol  when  I  felt 
Dirck's  earnest  pressure  of  my  arm.  He  was  nod- 
ding emphatically  toward  a  box  hedge  a  few  paces 


A  COLD  BATH  223 

from  us — something  was  stirring  its  stiff  foliage. 

A  man  broke  deliberately  through  the  box,  and 
stood  in  the  gravelled  walk  beneath  the  lighted 
window. 

We  shrank  deep  into  the  shadow  of  the  blue 
spruce.  Then  the  barrel  of  Dirck's  revolver  crossed 
the  line  of  my  vision.  I  gripped  his  wrist. 

"  No,  no,  man,"  I  muttered.  "  We  must  see 
who  he  is.  He  may  be  only  some  harmless  strag- 
gler from  the  town." 

The  night-walker,  having  stood  a  moment  in  the 
path,  now  began  an  extraordinary  performance. 
Facing  toward  the  house  he  moved  a  step  to  the 
right,  then  to  the  left,  backward  and  forward. 
Had  it  been  a  schoolgirl  and  on  the  street  I  would 
have  called  it  skipping.  His  arms,  too,  fluttered 
about  his  head  in  an  ascending  and  descending  calis- 
thenic.  For  the  time  and  place  it  was  truly  bewil- 
dering behavior. 

"  What  the  devil ! "  I  muttered  in  Dirck's  ear. 
His  returning  "  Que  dlable!  "  expressed  an  aston- 
ishment as  great  as  my  own. 

"  It  may  be  he  signals  a  confederate." 

"  But  he's  facing  toward  the  house." 

"  Truly,  and  looking  up  to  the  window — the 
one  with  the  light." 

We  stared  at  each  other. 

The  strange  pantomime  still  continued.  The 
man  would  place  both  hands  to  his  mouth  as  if  he 
were  about  to  call  up  to  Ellen.  Then  he  would 


I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 


apparently  think  better  of  it,  for  the  hands  would 
be  flung  up  and  outward  in  what  seemed  almost  a 
gesture  of  despair. 

"  Can  it  be  Ned  Sutphen,  trying  to  attract  his 
sister's  attention?  But  why  should  he  make  such 
a  secret  of  it,  now?  " 

"Ah,  the  gaillard?     It  must  be  the  one." 

"  He  must  be  throwing  gravel  at  the  window." 

"  But  he  takes  it  from  has  mouth." 

"  No,  he  probably  has  his  hands  full  of  pebbles 
and  happens  to  find  it  easiest  to  toss  them  up  in 
that  style.  He  certainly  never  played  baseball, 
though  —  and  I  don't  hear  anything  rattle  against 
the  pane  either." 

Again  the  intruder  applied  his  hands  indubita- 
bly to  his  mouth,  and  flung  them  upward.  I  gasped. 

"  Kisses  !  by  Heaven  !  Kisses!  " 

"Kisses!" 

"  It  can't  be  Sutphen,  after  all.  He  wouldn't 
throw  kisses  to  his  sister  at  one  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing. Yes,  by  Jove  !  the  damned  idiot  is  skipping  — 
and  throwing  kisses!  Humph!  he's  stopped  at 
last." 

The  fellow  had,  indeed,  come  to  a  halt  fair  in  the 
little  patch  of  light  that  fell  from  Ellen's  window. 
For  the  first  time  his  face  was  illumined.  I  looked 
—  rubbed  my  eyes  —  and  stared  with  all  my  soul. 

"  I  say,  Ellen,"  called  a  drawling  voice,  "  you 
ought  to  give  a  chap  back  his  kisses  —  you  ought, 
you  know,  really.  It  isn't  fair  to  keep  them." 


A  COLD  BATH  225 

"  Beauchamp,  by  Gad !     Drunk !  " 

The  light  fell  on  the  hither  side  of  his  face,  and 
I  saw  it  clearly.  His  prominent  nose  showed 
ridge-like  against  the  blackness  behind  it,  and  his 
insolent  mouth  was  directed  upward  as  he  renewed 
his  appeal. 

"  Don't  keep  a  chap  waiting  here  forever — it's 
deuced  cold  out  here." 

The  light  in  Ellen's  room  suddenly  diminished, 
yet  did  not  go  out.  Involuntary  fear  must  have 
led  her  to  switch  off  the  lights,  then  pride  had  come 
in  time  to  prevent  their  complete  extinguishing. 

"  That's  right,  my  dear,"  called  Beauchamp. 
"  Turn  'em  out !  Turn  the  little  sparkly  devils  out. 
We  don't  need  the  'lectrics  while  the  stars  are  so 
bright." 

"  Drunk !  cold  drunk,"  I  muttered  again. 

As  I  learned  afterward,  he  had  spent  half  the 
night  at  the  Club,  going  there  direct  from  the 
Westbrooks'.  In  the  Club  he  had  proceeded  to  take 
one  drink  on  another,  doubtless  to  drown  his  rage 
and  chagrin  over  the  day's  occurrences.  When  at 
last  the  steward  had  given  orders  that  he  should 
be  served  nothing  more,  Beauchamp  was  in  the 
state  men  of  his  cool  temperament  sometimes  reach 
— his  brain  on  fire,  but  his  speech  coherent,  and  his 
limbs  fairly  steady. 

He  began  to  sing: 

" '  Under  your  window  I  play  my  guitar, 

Play  my  guitar,  play  my  gui ' 

15 


226  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

Gad !  I  don't  remember  the  rest.  It's  a  bally  poor 
song,  at  any  rate." 

"  Shall  we  rush  upon  him? "  whispered  Dirck 
eagerly.  "  We  can  send  him  to  a  hospital  in  three 
minutes'  time.  You  can  again  break  his  jaw." 

The  prospect  was  enticing,  but  I  was  in  a  cold 
fury  that  impelled  me  to  endure  the  drunken  cad  a 
while  longer. 

"  No,  not  yet.  I  want  to  give  him  rope  enough 
to  hang  himself." 

He  was  paying  out  the  rope  fast  enough,  there 
was  no  doubt  about  that. 

"'Little  Tommy  Tucker 
Sang  for  his  supper,' " 

he  chanted.  "  I  say,  Nell,  it  isn't  my  supper  I'm 
singing  for,  though — it's  just  you,  my  dear."  He 
chuckled.  "  Had  my  supper  at  the  Club.  By 
Gad!  I  didn't  either.  Their  chow  wasn't  fit  to 
eat,  you  know.  I  had  something  to  drink  instead." 

He  paused  and  shook  his  head  at  the  window  as 
if  he  had  received  an  interrogation  thence.  "  Too 
much  to  drink?  Oh,  no,  my  dear,  I  promise  you — 
just  a  few  refreshers — I  needed  'em,  really,  after 
the  nasty  way  old  Miss  Westbrook  talked  to  me. 
A  real  cat — I  never  had  such  a  wigging  in  my  life. 
And  then  your  letter,  my  dear,  this  morning — that 
•was  a  blow.  You  want  to  know  what  I  had  to 
drink?  Let's  see,  I'll  tell  you." 

He  checked  them  solemnly  on  his  fingers.    "  First 


A  COLD  BATH  227 

I  had  some  of  your  American  cocktails.  Then  I 
had  a  Scotch  and  an  Irish.  After  that  I  tried  a 
gin-ricky — no,  it  was  a  silver  fizz.  By  Gad !  I  don't 
know  which  was  first — had  'em  both,  at  any  rate. 
Then  a  little  more  usquebaugh,  I  think.  I  don't 
suppose  you  ever  drank  a  shandy-gaff,  did  you, 
my  dear?  I  did,  and  next  to  that  a  whiskey-sour. 
Your  American  drinks  are  delightful.  Nell,  are 
you  listening,  my  dear?  You  ought  to  listen, 
really." 

The  dim  light  burned  steadily  above.  The  wind 
moaned  about  the  corners  of  the  house.  The 
frosty  stars  twinkled  on  the  ridiculous  and  sad- 
dening spectacle  of  a  man  reduced  to  the  verge  of 
the  lachrymose. 

"  I  say,  Nell,  you  ought  to  take  me  in.  What's 
the  use  of  being  nasty  about  it  ?  "  He  paused  and 
a  new  idea  seemed  to  strike  him.  "  Oh,  is  it  on 
account  of  the  row  I  had  with  that  fellow,  Schuyler? 
The  chap  has  a  fist  like  a  blacksmith's.  No  gentle- 
man ought  to  have  a  fist  like  that,  by  Gad !  " 

He  stared  up  at  the  window,  holding  his  head 
at  a  comical  side-cock,  as  if  he  again  had  a  com- 
munication from  above.  "  Oh,  on  account  of  little 
Kitty  Willetts,  is  it?  That's  the  same  thing— 
the  row  with  Schuyler  was  over  her,  you  know. 
I  tried  to  be  *  slim '  about  that,  and  by  Gad !  how 
he  did  bowl  me  over.  Come  now,  don't  be  stiffish 
over  a  thing  like  that.  I'm  no  worse  than  any 
other  chap,  I  fancy.  If  Rex  Westbrook — a  good 


I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 


old  chap  he  was,  too — if  Westbrook  was  such  an 
ass  as  to  give  her  up,  why  shouldn't " 

"  Come  on,  Dirck,"  I  growled. 

We  were  on  him  in  an  instant — so  quickly  that  he 
was  only  half  able  to  face  my  rush.  But  this  very 
unpreparedness  helped  him,  for  I  checked  my  blow 
at  his  jaw  and  it  fell  heavily  on  his  shoulder. 
Nevertheless,  he  went  down  full-length  on  the  grav- 
elled walk.  Dirck  dealt  him  a  kick  in  the  ribs  as 
he  lay. 

"  Go  easy !  "  I  said.  "  He's  down,  worse  luck. 
I  wish  he'd  kept  his  feet  a  minute  longer." 

"  Wot  cheer,  maties ! "  came  from  the  figure  at 
our  feet.  "  Do  you  mean  fight?  I'll  take  you  on, 
if  you  like." 

"That's  what  I  want,"  I  returned.  "Help 
him  up,  Dirck." 

With  some  difficulty,  Beauchamp  was  restored  to 
an  upright  position.  However,  one  look  at  him  as 
he  threw  himself  into  a  grotesque  attempt  at  a  box- 
ing attitude  was  enough.  A  fight  with  him  would 
be  only  a  slaughter — desirous  as  I  was  of  punish- 
ing him  I  could  not  take  such  an  advantage. 

"  The  brute's  too  drunk  to  fight." 

"By  Gad!  is  that  you,  Schuyler?  You  lie, 
Schuyler." 

"  Do  I  ?  I've  a  notion  to  beat  you  to  a  pulp — 
you  drunken  blackguard !  " 

"Craig!" 

My  name  floated  down  from  midair.     I  glanced 


A  COLD  BATH 

up.  The  curtain  of  the  window  above  was  parted 
ever  so  slightly.  Through  the  crack  a  sentence 
was  thrown  like  bits  of  ice. 

"  Craig — there's   a   pond — across  the   road !  " 

The  icy  voice  ceased — the  curtain  showed  an  un- 
broken surface — the  light  was  abruptly  extin- 
guished. 

A  pond — across  the  road!  In  a  flash  I  remem- 
bered that  a  recent  rain  had  washed  away  an  edge 
of  the  road  in  front  of  "  Red  Cedars."  The  local 
roadmaster  had  neglected  to  repair  it  promptly, 
and  it  now  lay  a  black  and  nauseating  pool,  not  a 
hundred  yards  from  where  we  stood. 

I  shouted  directions  to  Dirck.  We  whirled 
Beauchamp  about  in  spite  of  his  energetic :  "  Wot 
cheer,  matk !  "  and  one  on  each  side  of  him,  hustled 
him  across  the  lawn.  Although  probably  he  did 
not  divine  our  intentions,  he  struggled  vigorously. 
But  he  was  a  child  in  the  grasp  of  two  men,  either 
one  of  whom  would  have  been  more  than  his  match 
even  had  he  been  sober.  As  it  was,  his  drunken 
condition  made  him  well-nigh  helpless. 

In  a  trice  we  had  rushed  him  over  the  lawn, 
had  crossed  the  road,  and  halted  on  the  edge  of  the 
filthy  water. 

"  I  say,  you  chaps,  what  the  devil " 

"  In  you  go !  " 

We  flung  him  headlong  into  the  pool — a  thin 
scum  of  ice  crackled  as  he  went  down. 

There  was  a  tremendous  splashing  in  the  freez- 


230  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

ing  fluid — a  storm  of  curses  as  a  figure,  face,  hair 
and  shoulders  grotesquely  plastered  with  black  clay, 
found  a  footing  in  four  feet  of  water.  Then 
Carlos  Beauchamp,  shivering,  filth-marked,  sobered, 
furious  but  impotent,  made  his  way  to  the  farther 
bank  of  the  pool,  and  out  of  my  life. 

As  we  returned  past  the  house,  I  studied  Ellen's 
window.  All  was  dark. 

By  the  blue  spruce  I  halted  and  looked  back. 
The  evening  star,  very  bright  and  pure,  gleamed 
coldly  at  me  from  an  infinite  distance. 


XXII 

EAVESDROPPING 

DIKCK  was  awaiting  me  when  I  gained  the  porch- 
steps.  We  regarded  each  other  with  the  sober 
satisfaction  of  men  who  have  done  their  plain  duty. 

"  How  he  splashed,  monsieur !  " 

"  Fairly  wallowed !  I  hope  he  gulped  down  a 
good  mouthful  of  mud." 

"  It  was  impossible  not  to." 

Above  our  relishing  laughter  I  heard  the  crunch 
of  gravel  behind  me.  Dirck  peered  over  my  shoul- 
der as  I  turned. 

"  Some  one  is  coming  up  the  path,  monsieur." 

"  Beauchamp  would  never  have  the  nerve — unless 
he's  ready  to  shoot." 

"  He  walks  too  steadily  for  a  drunken  man." 

From  where  we  stood,  the  path  followed  the  curve 
of  the  house  in  one  direction,  and  in  the  other 
wound  away  beneath  a  row  of  elms  to  the  public 
road.  Just  now  the  elms  formed  a  tunnel,  so 
shot  with  stars  that  the  ground  mist  was  kicked 
up  in  silvery  sparkles  about  the  feet  of  an  advanc- 
ing man. 

Whoever  he  might  be,  he  was  making  no  effort 
to  conceal  his  approach.  On  the  contrary  he  came 
forward  boldly  until  within  a  few  yards  of  us. 
My  greeting  apprised  him  of  our  presence. 

231 


I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 


"  Good-evening.     A  fine  night." 

He  threw  up  his  head  and  came  to  a  halt. 
"Hello!  who's  that?" 

"  Is  that  you,  Aleck?  "  I  returned.  "  Have  you 
lost  your  way,  my  boy  ?  " 

"Oh,  Schuyler!  No,  I'm  all  right.  You're 
just  the  man  I  want  to  see,  Schuyler." 

"  Good-night,  monsieur,"  murmured  Dirck  behind 
me. 

Aleck  stared  over  my  head  as  the  Frenchman 
slipped  into  the  house  through  the  open  window. 

"Who  was  that  with  you  —  DuBois?" 

"  Yes." 

"  He's  out  late." 

"  So  am  I.  For  that  matter,  so  are  you,  aren't 
you  ?  "  My  question  was  superfluous,  and  I  went 
on.  "  Dirck  and  I  have  been  rounding  up  a  man 
we  took  for  a  burglar,  at  first." 

"A  tramp?" 

"  No,  only  a  trespasser  —  Carlos  Beauchamp." 

"The  devil!" 

"  Pretty  nearly.  We  sobered  him  up  by  giving 
him  a  swim  in  the  pond  over  there." 

"  Good  !  "  Although  his  exclamation  of  satis- 
faction was  genuine  yet,  to  my  surprise,  he  dis- 
played no  further  interest  in  Beauchamp's  fate. 
He  went  on  in  a  significant  tone.  "  Is  that  every- 
thing your  man  —  DuBois  —  has  been  up  to  to- 
night?" 

"Hello!  what's  up,  Aleck?     I  don't  flatter  my- 


EAVESDROPPING  283 

self  you  came  over  here  at  this  hour  simply  for  the 
pleasure  of  a  call." 

"  No-o,  that's  true.  Can  I  have  a  talk  with  you, 
Schuyler — about  something  confidential  ?  " 

"  If  you  want  to  say  anything  about  Kitty  Wil- 
letts  and  Beauchamp  and  me,  I'd  rather  not  Aleck 
— I've  seen  Norah's  letter,  and  Rex's.  I'll  take 
your  apologies  for  granted." 

"  It  isn't  that — though  the  Lord  knows  I  feel 
like  apologizing.  You  could  kick  me  from  here 
home  and  I  wouldn't  complain.  But  it  isn't  that. 
It's  something  about — well,  about  Norah." 

"  Norah?  "  I  turned  matters  swiftly  in  my 
mind.  "  Ought  you  to  talk  to  me  about  your  sis- 
ter, Aleck?  You're  young — I  beg  your  pardon, 
but  you  are! — and  perhaps  you  think  offhand  it's 
your  duty  to  talk  to  me  about  her.  I  don't  know 
what  it's  about,  of  course,  but,  at  a  venture,  I 
should  say  don't  try  to  handle  your  sister's  affairs. 
Sleep  on  it,  at  any  rate." 

We  were  standing  close  together,  and  even  in  the 
darkness  I  could  make  out  his  puzzled  face.  He 
shifted  his  weight  from  one  foot  to  the  other  as 
a  schoolboy  might  have  done. 

Behind  him  a  star  or  two  twinkled  through  the 
top  of  the  blue  spruce.  A  rabbit — a  mere  fluffy 
ball  of  gray — leaped  the  box-hedge  and  landed 
within  six  feet  of  us.  One  horrified  stare,  then  it 
sprang  frantically  down  the  path,  its  cotton-tail 
flickering  like  a  meteor  in  the  dark. 


I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 


"  I  think  —  if  you  don't  mind,  Schuyler  —  I'm 
the  only  man  in  the  family  —  it's  a  point  of  honor." 

My  mind  groped  for  his  meaning  —  I  tried  to  re- 
member what  word  or  deed  of  mine  might  have  been 
construed  amiss  by  Norah.  His  next  words  bewil- 
dered me  more  than  ever. 

"  You're  the  cleanest-minded  man  I  know,  Schuy- 
ler.  I  can  follow  your  advice  —  you'll  know  what 
I  ought  to  do  —  what's  right  for  me  to  do." 

I  resigned  myself  to  the  issue.  "  Come  in.  We 
can  talk  better  inside." 

He  followed  me  across  the  porch  and  through  the 
window  into  the  library.  Here  lie  stood  motionless 
until  I  had  stirred  the  half-smothered  embers  of  the 
fire.  Presently  I  had  a  cheerful  blaze  going. 

"Sit  down,  Aleck." 

He  sank  into  a  chair  —  the  one  where  Ellen  had 
lately  crouched.  The  firelight  revealed  his  face  — 
I  saw  that  it  wore  a  troubled  look  rather  than  a 
puzzled  one.  As  he  leaned  forward,  his  elbows 
propped  on  his  knees  and  his  chin  in  his  hands, 
the  skin  over  his  temples  seemed  more  tightly  drawn 
than  usual  —  the  sparkle  in  his  blue  eyes  was  a  little 
quenched. 

"  I  don't  know  what  to  think,"  he  began.  "  If  it 
were  anyone  else  —  I  mean  if  it  were  any  other 
man's  sister  —  I'm  afraid  I  would  feel  out-and-out 
disgusted.  But  Norah!  She  couldn't  do  anything 
a  girl  of  our  sort  isn't  supposed  to  do." 

"Never!"  I  sni^  emphatically.  "That's  cer- 
tain." 


EAVESDROPPING  235 

"  But  girls  are  queer,"  he  returned  with  all  the 
cynic  philosophy  of  youth  and  inexperience. 
"  After  all,  I  don't  suppose  my  sister  is  so  very 
different  from  any  other  fellow's." 

"What's  the  point,  Aleck?" 

"  I  beg  your  pardon — I'm  a  bit  upset,  I  suppose. 

You  see "    He  leaned  still  further  forward,  his 

fingers  tight  about  his  rigid  jaw.  "  Well,  it's  like 
this.  About  eight  o'clock  I  brought  those  letters 
over  here  to  Ellen  from  Norah." 

I  nodded. 

"  We're  all  mighty  sorry,  Schuyler,  and  ashamed 
of  ourselves " 

"  Never  mind !  " 

"  Well,  then,  when  I  got  home,  I  lay  down  on 
the  lounge  in  the  library.  Do  you  remember? — 
it's  next  to  the  '  den  ' — each  has  a  door  onto  the 
porch,  a  good  deal  like  this." 

"  I  know." 

•  "  I  lay  down  and  got  to  thinking  about  things 
until  the  place  seemed  so  stuffy  I  put  up  a  window 
for  air." 

I  felt  inclined  to  smile,  but  managed  to  nod 
gravely. 

"  I  could  see  a  light  shining  from  the  *  den '  onto 
the  porch.  Norah  was  in  there  going  over  Rex's 
papers." 

"One  minute,  Aleck.     Is  all  this  material?" 

"  Oh,  yes.  You'll  see  in  a  minute.  I — I  over- 
heard something.  I  don't  want  you  to  think  I'm 
a  cad,  so  I  have  to  explain " 


286  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

"  Go  ahead." 

"  I  stared  at  Norah's  light,  and  thought  about 
her  and — and  so  forth,  until  I  fell  asleep." 

"Hum-m!" 

"  The  next  I  knew  I  woke  up  feeling  mighty  cold 
— the  open  window  let  the  wind  blow  across  me. 
Before  I  was  really  awake  I  heard  voices  outside 
the  window.  When  I  did  get  awake,  it  was  too  late 
to  move.  Do  you  see?  " 

"  I  understand  perfectly.  You  thought  you 
would  make  more  of  a  mess  of  things  by  moving 
than  you  would  by  keeping  quiet." 

"That's  it  exactly." 

My  apprehension  of  his  dilemma  seemed  to  re- 
lieve his  mind  of  a  heavy  load.  His  rigid  attitude 
relaxed.  He  lifted  his  face  from  his  hands. 

"  I  knew  you'd  understand.  Well,  of  course,  I 
recognized  Norah's  voice  soon  enough,  but  it  took 
me  a  minute  or  two  to  make  out  whose  the  other's 
was,  and  when  I  did,  it  gave  me  a  start,  I  can 
tell  you." 

"  It  was  Beauchamp,  of  course." 

"  Beauchamp !  Good  Lord !  no — I  wish  it  had 
been.  I  would  know  where  I  stand  then.  It  was 
your  man — DuBois." 

"Ah!" 

I  had  not  been  in  the  least  prepared  for  this 
revelation,  yet  I  did  not  doubt  its  truth.  After 
my  one  exclamation  of  surprise,  I  fell  back  on 
silence  to  conceal  my  thoughts. 


EAVESDROPPING  237 

I  remembered  that  Norah  had  been  struck  by  her 
first  sight  of  Dirck.  At  dinner  she  had  been  deeply 
interested  in  my  little  story  of  his  kindness  to  the 
Hungarian  emigrants.  He  had  returned  without 
embarrassment  her  impulsive  hand-clasp  that  same 
night — she  had  blushed  beneath  his  glance.  Later, 
too,  he  had  asked  me  about  her.  And  that  very 
afternoon  he  had  contrived  to  speak  to  her  at  her 
carriage  step — his  heart  in  his  eyes.  I  knew  that, 
under  certain  conditions,  there  might  be  no  limit 
to  his  audacity.  But  was  it  possible  that  there 
could  be  such  a  thing  as  love  at  first  sight  between 
a  lady  and  a  chauffeur — between  Norah  and  Dirck ! 

Aleck  continued,  his  voice  deliberate  as  if  he  were 
conscientiously  trying  not  to  be  hasty  in  his  judg- 
ments. 

"  They  must  have  been  talking  a  few  minutes 
before  I  woke  up — long  enough  for  Norah  to  have 
gotten  over  the  first  shock  of  the  man's  *  nerve,' 
at  any  rate.  I  made  out  somehow  that  he'd  seen 
her  through  the  window — tapped  on  the  pane  and 
beckoned  her  to  come  out,  you  know.  The  Lord 
knows  why  she'd  come !  I  wonder  she  didn't  scream 
instead." 

"  She  isn't  the  screaming  sort." 

"  That's  true.  She'd  come  out  to  see  what  in  the 
world  the  fellow  wanted,  I  suppose — perhaps  she'd 
thought  he  had  a  message  from  Ellen.  Once  out, 
she'd  been  fascinated  before  she  knew  it." 

"  He's  a  good  talker  when  he  tries." 


238  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

Aleck  struck  his  fist  on  the  wide  arm  of  his  chair. 
"  Schuyler,  I  give  you  my  word,  I  didn't  dream  a 
man  could  talk  so — so  charmingly,  I  mean — outside 
of  a  book." 

"What  did  he  say?" 

"  Oh,  it  wasn't  what  he  said  but  the  way  he  said 
it — his  voice  and  manner  and  all  that.  I'm  a  man, 
but  by  George!  hearing  that  damned  Frenchman 
talk,  I  felt  as  weak  as  a  woman — as  weak  as  Norah, 
maybe.  I'd  never  understood  before  how  it  was 
Napoleon  could  handle  men  the  way  he  did — I  see 
now.  It  was  in  him,  that's  all  there  was  to  it. 
And  it's  the  same  with  DuBois." 

"  What  were  they  talking  about?  " 

"  He  was — yes,  confound  him !  he  was  telling  her 
he  loved  her.  Think  of  it !  And  she  was  standing 
there  listening  as  if  she  were  a  statue — at  least,  she 
didn't  seem  to  be  making  any  protest  that  I  could 
hear — not  for  some  time." 

He  shook  his  head  amazedly  at  me,  as  if  even 
yet  unable  to  believe  what  he  himself  had  heard,  or 
failed  to  hear. 

"  It  doesn't  seem  possible,  does  it?  "  he  went  on, 
"  but  it's  true.  Of  course,  he  didn't  say :  *  I  love 
you,'  flat  out  like  that,  but  he  might  as  well  have 
said  it — except  that  his  way  was  a  good  deal  better. 

"  The  first  words  I  really  got  into  my  head  Norah 
was  saying — she  was  trying  to  keep  herself  from 
sinking,  so  to  speak.  '  It  can't  be  true,'  she  said. 
'  Perhaps  you're  walking  in  your  sleep,  DuBois. 
This  is  absurd.' 


EAVESDROPPING  239 

"  *  Mademoiselle,'  he  said — You  ought  to  have 
heard  his  voice,  Schuyler —  '  Mademoiselle,  it  may 
be  absurd  to  you,  but  it  is  life  and  death  to  me.' 

"  *  This — it's  all — impossible ! '  she  said. 

"  '  You  only  think  so  because  you  think  we  have 
known  each  other  so  short  a  time,'  he  told  her.  '  If 
it  had  been  a  year  ago  you  gave  me  that  look  in- 
stead of  a  day,  would  it  seem  to  you  so  impossible?  ' 

"  I  don't  know  what  they  were  talking  about, 
Schuyler,  but  she  gave  a  little  gasp  and  said :  *  I 
didn't — I  didn't — not  the  way  you  mean !  Be- 
sides, it  isn't  the  time  that's  wrong — it's  you.' 

"  He  only  laughed  at  that.  '  You  mean  to  re- 
mind me  that  I  am  a  servant,'  he  said  as  cool  as  ice. 
'  But,  mademoiselle,  that  is  nothing  to  me — nor  to 
you.' 

"  That's  what  he  said,  Schuyler — he  acknowl- 
edged he  was  a  servant,  and  told  her  to  her  face 
that  he  knew  she  didn't  care  if  he  was.  And  by 
George !  she  didn't — she  didn't.  Mind  you,  instead 
of  ordering  him  off  the  place,  she  was  arguing  with 
him — she  was  lost  already,  if  she'd  only  realized  it. 
Can  anybody  understand  a  woman  ?  "  he  finished 
ruefully. 

"  One  man  apparently,"  I  returned. 

"  DuBoiis  himself?  Yes,  he  does — no  doubt 
about  that.  And  Lord !  how  fast  he  went — it  took 
my  breath  away  to  listen  to  him.  By  this  time 
he'd  asked  her — no,  he'd  told  her  he  was  going  to 
kiss  her.  It's  true,  though  you  may  not  believe  it. 


240  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

Fancy  my  sister,  standing  there  arguing  with  a 
French  chauffeur  about  whether  or  not  she  should 
give  him — should  let  him  take — whew !  " 

"  Rather,"  I  agreed. 

"  And  the  point  is,  she  wasn't  arguing  about  the 
kiss  itself.  No,  she  was  objecting  because  he  wasn't 
her  equal." 

"  That  was  reason  enough." 

"  Of  course.  But  that  was  the  only  reason  that 
occurred  to  her.  Don't  you  see,  that  was  as  good 
as  telling  him  she  cared  for  him.  He  was  sharp 
enough  to  see  that." 

"  I'm  afraid  he  was." 

"  Well,  when  he  told  her  he  knew  she  didn't  care 
if  he  was  a  chauffeur,  she  didn't  say  a  word — just 
as  if  she  were  frightened  at  herself — as  if  she 
really  understood  herself  for  the  first  time. 

"  When  she  couldn't  answer  him,  he  said  to  her : 
1  Do  I  look  like  a  servant,  mademoiselle?  ' 

"  *  You  look  like  a  gentleman,'  she  told  him. 
And  he  does,  Schuyler,  that's  a  fact,  isn't  it? 

"  *  Do  I  talk  like  a  servant?  '  he  asked  her. 

"  '  No,'  she  said. 

"  '  Then  what  does  it  matter,  if  I  am  a  servant?  ' 
he  said,  very  quietly,  you  know. 

"  Neither  of  them  said  anything  more  for  a 
second,  then  she  made  a  little  sound  in  her  throat. 
*  Why  are  you  with  Mr.  Schuyler,'  she  said,  *  as  a 
chauffeur,  when  you  are  a  gentleman  ? ' 

" '  I  have  not  said  so,'  he  told  her. 


EAVESDROPPING 

"  '  But  I  know  you  are,'  she  said." 

Aleck  crossed  one  leg  over  the  other  and  sank 
back  in  his  chair.  His  eyes  sought  my  face  as  if 
to  make  sure  of  my  sympathy. 

"  Women  are  sort  of  appealing,  aren't  they, 
Schuyler?  Have  you  ever  noticed  that?  A  girl 
believes  in  a  man,  if  she  likes  him,  no  matter  what 
he  is.  I  suppose  that's  real  faith,  isn't  it?  It's 
rather  touching,  I  think." 

The  firelight  lit  his  earnest  face  as  he  aired  his 
re-discovery  of  woman's  faith  in  man. 

"  After  that,"  he  went  on,  "  DuBois  began  to 
talk  in  French.  I  don't  know  it  any  too  well,  but 
Norah  is  rather  clever  at  it — the  year  after  you 
left  home,  Aunt  Caroline  and  she  spent  in  France — 
Xorah  went  to  school  there. 

"  From  what  I  made  out,  DuBois  asked  Norah  if 
she  remembered  how  a  lovely,  blonde  '  jeune  fille ' 
was  nearly  run  over  by  a  drunken  cabman  one  day 
on  the  Champs  Elysees.  Did  she  remember  how  a 
stranger — a  passer-by — had  dragged  back  the 
young  girl  just  in  time  to  save  her,  and  how  he 
had  carried  her  to  the  sidewalk — out  of  harm's  way? 

"  Of  course  the  girl  was  Norah  and  DuBois  said 
he  was  the  man  who'd  saved  her.  Norah  remem- 
bered the  affair — who  wouldn't? — but,  as  near  as  I 
could  follow  their  talk,  she  couldn't  reconcile  her 
recollection  of  her  hero  as  he  was  then  with  the  man 
as  he  is  now.  But  she  believed  in  him — she  had 
to  believe  in  him. 
16 


I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

"  He  told  her  he'd  loved  her  ever  since  that  day 
— he'd  had  the  memory  of  her  in  his  heart — in  his 
dreams  he  was  always  carrying  her  just  as  he  had 
three  or  four  years  ago,  her  arm  about  his  neck. 

"  And  then  all  at  once,  his  voice  began  to  sound 
fierce  and  tender  at  the  same  time.  I  suppose  he 
was  very  close  to  her,  for  her  answers  were  muffled, 
and  grew  weaker  and  weaker.  She  was  trying  to 
tell  him  that  he  must  leave  the  house — that  she 
would  never  let  him  kiss  her — but  she  was  giving 
way. 

"  Schuyler,  I  couldn't  stand  it  any  longer — I  sat 
up  suddenly — the  whole  lounge  creaked  like  the 
very  devil!  I  just  had  one  glimpse  of  Norah's 
white  dress,  then  she  slipped  out  of  sight.  Your 
Frenchman  and  I  were  within  two  feet  of  each  other, 
he  standing  outside  the  window,  and  I  kneeling  in- 
side on  the  lounge,  ready  to  leap  out. 

"  I'd  meant  to  knock  the  man  down,  to  thrash 
him  within  an  inch  of  his  life — if  I  could.  But 
when  he  looked  at  me,  I  couldn't  move.  It  wasn't 
funk,  Schuyler — I'm  sure  of  that.  No,  there  was 
something  about  that  look  of  his  that  seemed  to 
say  he  had  a  right  there.  Not  the  least  bit  threat- 
ening or  sullen — not  that  at  all,  thoroughly  self- 
possessed  and  indifferent,  and  as  cool  as  ice. 

"  He  waited  for  me  to  move  or  speak — and  I 
couldn't.  Then  he  walked  quietly  down  the  step* 
and — and  the  next  I  saw  of  him  he  was  here  with 
you." 


EAVESDROPPING 

Through  the  latter  part  of  young  Westbrook's 
story  I  had  sat  silent,  my  brain  busy.  Now  as  he 
softly  pounded  the  arm  of  his  chair,  I  spoke. 

"  Are  you  here  after  Dirck  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know.  That's  why  I  want  your  advice, 
Schuyler.  Oughtn't  I  to  be  after  him?  It  seems 
to  me  I  ought  to  have  him  out  here  on  the  lawn 
and  pound  him  to  pieces,  if  I  can.  If  he  were  an 
ordinary  sort,  I'd  ask  you  to  discharge  him,  and 
then  I'd  horsewhip  him.  But  he  isn't  an  ordinary 
sort — anybody  who  looks  at  him  twice  can  see  that. 
What  do  you  know  about  him,  Schuyler?  Who  is 
he? — or  what  is  he? — or  is  it  only  a  case  of  damn- 
able impertinence?  " 

I  regarded  him  gravely.  "  You  say  you'll  take 
my  advice,  whatever  it  may  be?  " 

"  Yes,"  he  returned  eagerly.  "  Whatever  you 
say  I'll  do,  Schuyler.  I  know  you  won't  stand  for 
anything  disgraceful  happening  to  Norah." 

"  To  any  of  you — nor  to  myself  either.  It 
would  be  a  disgrace  to  me  if  I  allowed  a  man  in 
my  employ  to  misbehave.  But  he  isn't  misbehaving 
— precisely." 

Aleck  almost  leaped  from  his  seat.     "  He  isn't !  " 

"  No.  Misbehavior  is  a  matter  of  intention. 
I'm  sure  Dirck  doesn't  have  any  such  intention." 

"  At  midnight — on  the  front  porch — with  my 
sister ! " 

"  It's  the  only  chance  and  place  he  had  to  see 
her." 


244  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

"  But  good  Lord !  Schuyler,  you're  missing  the 
point  altogether.  He's  your  chauffeur — a  common 
servant." 

"  Look  here,  Aleck,  this  is  my  advice — this  isn't 
the  time  for  a  row  with  DuBois.  You  can  go  back 
home  and  sleep  on  that.  You  won't  be  compromis- 
ing your  honor — or  anyone's — by  waiting — by  let- 
ting matters  take  their  course." 

"  Are  you  sure  ?  " 

"  Absolutely.  You  say  you  can  trust  me?  Then 
don't  follow  this  thing  any  further — for  the  pres- 
ent, at  any  rate." 

In  spite  of  himself  he  let  go  a  long  breath  of 
relief.  "  I'll  do  whatever  you  say."  We  rose  and 
shook  hands.  "  I  won't  keep  you  up  any  longer, 
then,  and — and  I'm  much  obliged  to  you,  Schuyler. 
I'm  glad  you  ducked  Beauchamp — we  were  a  lot 
of  blind  moles  about  you  and — her." 

"  All  that's  to  be  forgotten." 

I  held  aside  the  curtain  and  he  stepped  through 
the  open  window.  Outside  he  came  to  an  abrupt 
halt. 

"  Good  Lord ! "  he  groaned.  "  I  wonder  if 
Norah  is  waiting  up  to  interview  me  for  med- 
dling? "  His  feet  lagged  like  a  schoolboy's  as  he 
moved  away. 

Laughing  to  myself,  I  closed  and  locked  the  long 
window. 


XXIII 

I  DEMAND  PAYMENT 

WHEN  I  entered  the  breakfast-rooir*  the  next 
morning,  Ellen  was  standing  by  a  window,  looking 
out  over  the  valley.  She  turned  at  my  footstep. 

"  Good-morning,  Little  Nell.  Here  comes  Quilp, 
the  dwarf,  you  see — in  a  moderately  good  humor, 
though,  so  you  needn't  run — yet." 

Her  smile  seemed  to  thank  me  for  the  lightness 
of  my  greeting.  Possibly  she  was  half-regretful 
of  her  apologetic  attitude  in  delivering  me  the  let- 
ters the  night  before.  Or  again,  she  may  have 
been  relieved  that  I  did  not  bring  up  the  subject  of 
Carlos  Beauchamp's  antics — it  is  not  pleasant  to 
think  of  a  lover,  even  though  a  rejected  one,  in  so 
pitiable  a  light. 

"  You  don't  look  as  if  you  would  beat  and  pinch 
me  this  morning,"  she  returned. 

"  We  shall  see.  Besides,  it  wasn't  Little  Nell 
Quilp  pinched,  was  it?  It  was  his  wife." 

"  That's  true."  With  a  wave  of  her  hand  she 
invited  me  to  the  view  across  the  valley.  "  It's 
a  glorious  day.  Just  see  how  those  clouds  pile  up 
above  '  Westbrook  Place,' — real  castles  in  the  air." 

"  It's  a  day  for  a  good  long  ride  in  the  car,"  I 
suggested.  "  Let's  go  aroaming  by  the  light  6* 
the  sun.  After  breakfast — what  do  you  say?" 

245 


246  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

"  The  ayes  have  it  unanimously.  A  ride  will  be 
rather  restful,  after  our  strenuous  time  yesterday." 
Her  glance  swept  hastily  from  me  to  the  window  as 
if  she  repented  the  opening  she  had  given  me. 

I  did  not  take  advantage  of  it.  Her  morning 
gown  of  brown  linen  fitted  her  perfectly — her  brown 
boots  matched  it.  The  broad  collar  with  its  knot 
of  brown  ribbon  gave  her  an  almost  schoolgirlish 
appearance. 

She  gazed  absently  out  the  window  and  I  could 
not  see  her  eyes  nor  guess  what  was  in  her  thoughts. 
Was  she  profoundly  contrite  for  her  years-long 
mis  judgment  of  me,  or  was  she  only  overpoweringly 
afraid  of  me?  Last  night,  before  the  library  fire 
with  her,  I  had  been  content  to  forget  the  real  prob- 
lems of  life  in  the  glamor  of  our  position,  but  now, 
as  she  must  be  aware,  life  was  to  be  faced  again. 

"Are  we  waiting  for  your  mother?" 

She  turned  to  the  breakfast-table,  laughing  up  at 
me  as  I  drew  back  her  chair.  "  Oh,  I  was  dream- 
ing. No,  mother  won't  be  down.  How  naughty 
of  me  to  keep  a  man  waiting  for  something  to  eat. 
I  might  easily  have  had  my  head  bitten  off." 

"  Yes — a  perilous  performance." 

We  sat  down  and  she  began  to  pour  my  coffee. 
"  I  hope  you  aren't  any  the  worse  for  wear  yes- 
terday, Nell — the  wetting  and  the  hound,  and  all 
that." 

"  Not  the  least  bit,  thank  you.  Two  lumps, 
Craig?'" 


I  DEMAND  PAYMENT  247 

"  Please.  You  didn't  have  another  chill?  I 
didn't  reflect  when  I  dared  you  into  that  stream 
that  you  are  a  foot  or  two  shorter  than  I  am." 

"  I'm  not  so  very  small,  sir !  No,  I  didn't  feel 
cold — after  Mary  Finney's."  She  handed  me  the 
cup,  and  grasped  the  handle  of  the  coffee-pot  as  if 
to  pour  for  herself,  but  the  motion  died  there. 
"  Craig,  I  think  I'm  only  just  beginning  to  realize 
you  saved  my  life — from  that  dreadful  dog." 

"  Dee-lighted— if  I  did." 

"  You  saved  me  from  being  frightfully  bitten, 
at  any  rate." 

"  You're  forgetting  your  breakfast." 

She  drew  a  long  breath  and  the  hazel  lights  be- 
gan to  sparkle  in  her  eyes.  She  spoke  through 
teeth  that  were  almost  clenched. 

"  It's — an  intolerable — obligation.  Any  obliga- 
tion— to  you — is  intolerable." 

"  I'm  glad  to  hear  you  say  so — I  shall  put  you 
under  every  obligation  I  can,"  I  returned,  only 
half  in  jest. 

As  she  filled  her  cup  at  last,  she  gave  me  a  queer 
little  smile. 

*'  About  *  Gomez  *,"  she  said  after  a  little. 

"  The  dog  has  had  his  day." 

"  But  I  think  I  know  why  he  attacked  us." 

"That's  interesting.     Why?" 

"  That  sound  we  heard  in  the  woods — you  re- 
member, we  both  heard  it — the  other  side  of  the 
ravine  ?  " 


248  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

"  Yes." 

"  I  think — I'm  almost  sure — it  was  Carlos  Beau- 
champ's  voice." 

I  stared.     "  By  Jove !  you  don't  mean  it !  " 

"  Yes.  '  Gomez '  used  to  belong  to  him,  you 
know.  He  could  always  control  him  much  better 
than  anyone  else.  Aleck  thought  '  Gomez  '  hadn't 
been  trained  to  attack  people,  but  perhaps  he  had 
— when  he  heard  the  right  signal." 

"  By  Jove !  "  I  exclaimed  again.     "  But  why  ?  " 

She  was  silent  and  I  was  forced  to  answer  my 
own  question.  "  Hum-m !  he's  certainly  a  big 
enough  scoundrel  for  anything — a  crafty  devil,  too. 
He'd  just  received  your  note  giving  him  his  conge 
and  he  knew  from  Aleck  I  was  here  and  would  be 
with  you  yesterday  morning.  He  put  two  and  two 
together  and  added  up  wrong — thought  I  was  re- 
sponsible for  his  dismissal,  I  suppose.  Yes,  a 
crafty  devil ! " 

Ellen's  face  was  a  delicate  pink.  "  You  aren't 
very  resentful." 

"  I  knocked  him  down — twice — and  ducked  him 
once." 

"  I  wonder — you  had  him  at  your  mercy — such  a 
beast — I  wonder  you  didn't  kick  him." 

"  I  believe  Dirck  did  attend  to  that  in  a  casual 
way.  Besides,  time  is  a  great  healer  of  old 
wounds."  I  glanced  at  her  stealthily  as  I  spoke — 
the  pink  in  her  cheeks  grew  to  a  deep  red  that  was 
long  in  dying  out. 


I  DEMAND  PAYMENT  249 

"You'll  go  for  the  ride?"  I  asked,  when  we 
had  finished  breakfast. 

"  Yes,  of  course.  I'll  put  on  my  hat  and  be 
down  in  five  minutes." 

When  she  had  gone  I  sent  Theresa  out  with  in- 
structions to  Dirck.  By  the  time  I  was  ready,  he 
had  the  car  waiting  under  the  porte-cochere. 

"  I'll  drive,  Dirck.     You  needn't  come." 

He  whipped  out  his  monkey-wrench  and  knocked 
about  the  emergency-brake  a  little.  "  It  is  stiff," 
he  explained,  "  if  monsieur  will  wait  a  few  min- 
utes  " 

"  Oh,  never  mind.  I  can  manage  it  well  enough 
as  it  is." 

"  Very  well,  monsieur." 

He  drew  a  step  nearer  and  spoke  in  an  under- 
tone. 

"  Last  night  I  learned  from  Theresa  the  last  word 
of  a  matter  that  has  troubled  us." 

I  knew  that  the  shrewd  fellow  was  not  easily 
misled.  "  What  is  it  now  ?  " 

I  heard  the  front  door  open  behind  me  as  Dirck 
pretended  to  test  the  steering-wheel.  "  There  is 
Mademoiselle.  Do  not  look  round.  Theresa  told 
me — last  night — Ah,  Mademoiselle  is  coming! 
Another  time."  He  removed  his  cap  and  stepped 
back  as  Ellen  ran  down  the  steps. 

"All  ready?"  I  asked. 

"  All  ready.  Where  are  we  going  ?  I  hope  it's 
to  be  a  good  long  ride." 


250  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

" '  Over  the  hills  and  far  away,'  "  I  chanted. 

I  helped  her  in  while  Dirck  took  a  last  turn  or 
two  at  the  emergency-brake.  "  Monsieur  will  bear 
in  mind  it  works  badly,"  he  cautioned. 

"  We're  not  likely  to  have  any  use  for  it.  Ex- 
pect us  when  you  see  us,  Dirck.  All  ready,  Nell? 
Away  we  go." 

As  we  slid  smoothly  off,  a  messenger  boy  turned 
his  bicycle  into  the  driveway.  I  slowed  down. 

"  A  telegram  boy  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir."  He  touched  his  cap  to  Ellen,  his 
wheel  barely  turning.  "  For  Monseer  Somebody 
— some  dago  name."  He  was  passing  us  with  skil- 
ful slowness.  "  He  stayin'  here  ?  " 

"  Monsieur  DuBois,"  I  suggested,  jerking  my 
head  back  toward  the  house.  "  That  man  by  the 
porte-cochere  there." 

"  'Taint  DuBois !  "  cried  the  lad,  a  trace  of  re- 
sentment in  his  tone.  "  Guess  I  can  read  all  right, 
all  right." 

Guiding  his  bicycle  with  one  hand,  he  snatched 
off  his  cap  with  the  other,  and  peered  into  its  re- 
cesses, where  doubtless  the  telegram  was  reposing. 

"  The  boy  must  have  made  a  mistake,"  said  Ellen. 

We  were  pounding  up  the  hill  at  a  leisurely  pace. 
"  Where  would  you  like  to  go,  Nell  ?  " 

"Anywhere — it's  such  a  glorious  day — any- 
where in  the  world ! " 

I  shoved  throttle  and  spark  to  a  thirty-mile 
speed,  and  away  we  flew. 


I  DEMAND  PAYMENT  251 

For  a  long  time  neither  of  us  spoke.  The  wind 
rushed  against  our  faces,  tugging  in  vain  at  Ellen's 
trim  veil  and  shining  hair.  On  the  perfect  New 
England  road  hardly  any  dust  was  disturbed  by  our 
flight.  Trees,  stone  walls,  and  houses  flitted  by 
like  images  in  a  dream. 

A  rock-crowned  hill  I  well  remembered  loomed 
on  our  left.  It  was  there  Nell  and  I  had  aban- 
doned our  search  for  the  golden  ball  that  lies  be- 
neath the  evening  star.  A  little  farther  on  we 
flashed  past  the  familiar  white-painted  meeting- 
house. Beyond,  a  quaint  hamlet  straggled  down 
an  elm-shaded  street.  I  slowed  down  to  the  legal 
ten  miles. 

"  We  don't  want  the  village  '  constabule '  to 
stretch  a  chain  across  at  the  other  end  of  the 
street." 

"  No,"  she  agreed.  "  This  is  Tarnsdale,  isn't 
It?" 

"  You  saw  the  old  Unitarian  Church?  Do  you 
remember  that  Sunday  night  when  we  sang  '  Softly 
now  the  light  of  day ' — in  the  gallery  with  the 
village  boys  and  girls?" 

"  Yes.  Are  we  going  anywhere  in  particular, 
Craig?  " 

"  Right  down  to  the  Sound,  if  you  like.  We  can 
cross  Connecticut  in  short  order,  you  know." 

"  Good !  The  seashore  and  the  air  will  be  per- 
fect to-day." 

We  were  almost  clear  of  Tarnsdale  when  a  man, 


252  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

wearing  a  sort  of  uniform,  ran  out  from  an  official- 
looking  building,  and  held  up  his  hand  peremp- 
torily. 

"  Hey,  there,  mister !     Hey,  stop !  " 

Protesting  energetically,  I  obeyed. 

"  Look  here,  officer !  This  is  an  outrage !  My 
wheels  were  barely  turning  over.  If  you  arrest  us, 
it'll  be  sheer  robbery.  You  can  walk  faster  than 
we  were  going.  Now,  I'll  be  hanged  if  I'll 
stand " 

"  Hold  on,  hold  on ! "  he  interrupted,  grinning. 
"  I  ain't  an  officer.  I'm  the  operator." 

"  Oh,  you  are."  For  the  first  time  I  noticed  the 
yellow  paper  in  his  hand.  "What  is  it?"  I 
asked. 

"  Party  o'  the  name  of  Schuyler?  "  he  demanded. 

"Yes.     I'm  Mr.  Schuyler — Craig  Schuyler." 

"  You're  the  one.  I  got  a  call  from  Bannocks 
not  five  minutes  ago — said  you  was  heading  this 
way  and  to  stop  you.  Telegram  for  you."  He 
handed  me  the  yellow  slip  which  he  had  not  even 
had  time  to  enclose  in  the  usual  envelope. 

I  took  in  its  contents  at  a  glance,  thanked  the 
man,  then — to  his  evident  disappointment — started 
the  car. 

"  No  answer,  eh?  "  he  asked. 

"  No— thank  you." 

When  we  were  again  rolling  slowly  along  in  the 
open  country,  I  banded  the  telegram  to  Ellen.  She 
read  it  aloud : 


I  DEMAND  PAYMENT  253 

"  '  Bannocks,  Massachusetts,  October  13,  1910. 
•"To  Craig  Schuyler,  Esq.,  in  an  automobile  near  Tarnsdale. 
" '  News  Luisne's  death  received.    Accept  my  resignation. 
You  win.    Am  en  route  this  instant  to  ask  Mademoiselle  W. 
to  become  countess. 

"'H.  deTV" 


"What  does  it  mean?"  she  asked.  "I  don't 
understand  a  word  of  it." 

"  It  means  that  Henri  de  Trouville  has  fallen 
heir  to  a  title  and  estate  by  the  unexpected  death 
of  his  uncle  and  that  he  is  '  this  instant '  on  his 
way  to  ask  Norah  Westbrook  to  become  the 
Countess  de  Luisne." 

"  What ! " 

"  Also,  it  means  I've  lost  the  best  chauffeur  I 
ever  had." 

"  What— it  isn't  possible " 

"  It's  true.  Exit  Dirck  DuBois.  Enter — no,  re- 
enter  Henri  de  Trouville,  cadet  of  his  house  and 
recently  without  expectations,  but  just  now  made 
Count  de  Luisne." 

She  clasped  her  hands  excitedly. 

"  Tell  me,  tell  me,  Craig !  Don't  be  mean.  Tell 
me  everything.  Oh,  you  must  be  joking!" 

"  It  isn't  so  very  wonderful.  Henri  and  I  had 
a  bet — that's  about  all  there  is  to  it." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  He  and  I  have  been  chums  for  years — in  Su- 
matra and  everywhere.  But  he'd  never  been  in 
America,  and  he  had  some  of  those  confounded  Con- 


254  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

tinental  notions  about  our  American  girls — the 
worst  of  it  is  they're  true  often,  although  I'd  never 
admit  it  to  him." 

"  You  mean " 

"  He  thought  all  our  girls  were  mercenary — 
tuf'thunters  and  all  that.  He  believed  no  foreigner 
without  a  title  had  a  chance  with  one  of  our  sort — 
at  any  rate,  he  pretended  to  believe  that.  We 
argued  over  it  so  much  that  finally  I  badgered  him 
into  coming  over  here  disguised  as  my  chauffeur — 
just  to  see  if  he  could  find  an  American  girl  who 
would  consider  him  on  his  merits.  It  was  part  of 
the  bargain  that  I  should  treat  him  as  a  servant  in 
every  way — it  hasn't  been  easy  to  keep  up  the  farce 
sometimes.  How  he  did  *  monsieur '  me  until  all 
was  blue,  didn't  he?  Of  course,  it  was  only  a  lark. 
Now  that  he's  *  resigned '  I  want  to  get  at  him 
and  find  out  how  he's  been  enjoying  life  in  the  ser- 
vants' quarters.  Anybody  but  Henri  would  have 
found  it  rather  difficult  to  conduct  a  campaign  from 
there — but  he's  nothing  if  not  resourceful." 

"  It  wasn't  a  fair  test  at  all." 

"  No,  so  it  wasn't.  But  I  see  now  the  sly  dog 
had  some  particular  one  in  mind  all  along." 

"Norah?" 

"  Yes — I  think  he  was  captivated  from  the  start." 

"  But  how  did  he  meet  her,  Craig?  Do  you 
think  she's  in  love  with  him?  She  wouldn't  allow 
herself  to  be,  surely.  She  didn't  know  he  wasn't 
really  a  servant  ?  " 


I  DEMAND  PAYMENT  255 

"  I  think  she'd  begun  to  suspect  it."  I  related 
the  story  I  had  heard  from  Aleck  the  night  before. 
"  Any  young  woman  might  jump  at  the  chance  of 
becoming  the  Countess  de  Luisne,"  I  ended. 

*'  I  suppose  so."  She  gave  me  a  sidelong 
glance.  "  But  what  do  you  say  about  it?  "  There 
was  the  slightest  possible  accent  on  the  personal 
pronoun. 

"  I  say :  '  God  bless  you,  my  children,'  of  course." 

She  was  silent.  Dirck's — I  begged  his  pardon 
— Henri's  affairs  seemed  disposed  of. 

I  put  speed  on  the  car — thirty,  forty,  fifty  miles 
an  hour!  Too  fast  for  safety,  but  I  was  reckless. 
The  exhilaration  of  it  got  into  my  blood,  and  I 
shouted  and  sang  like  a  madman.  Ellen>,  too, 
caught  the  contagion  of  the  motion — she  sang  in 
broken  snatches,  or  uttered  little  cries  as  wild  as 
my  own. 

So  we  flew  steadily  southward.  Like  Ellen  I 
had  a  craving  for  the  salt  air  and  the  far  stretches 
of  the  sea — we  had  been  too  long  in  the  hills. 

When  I  next  glanced  at  the  clock  dancing  at  my 
feet,  it  was  one  o'clock.  The  speedometer  showed 
we  had  covered  nearly  ninety  miles. 

We  ran  up  a  long  hill  and  all  at  once  the  ocean 
shimmered  before  us.  I  marked  a  noble  oak  on  a 
cliff,  and  turning  the  car  off  the  unfenced  road, 
drove  slowly  across  the  downs  toward  it. 

The  salt  grass  crunched  crisply  under  the  wheels. 
The  air  blew  fresh  but  not  too  keen.  Here  and 


256  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

there  the  sail  of  a  swordfish  hunter  shone  almost 
white  against  the  blue.  It  was  a  day  in  a  thousand. 

"  Glorious !  "  said  Ellen,  and  I  echoed  the  word. 

She  regarded  me  with  clear  eyes  from,  which  all 
trouble  had  disappeared,  at  least  for  the  moment. 
Her  smile  was  as  frank  and  innocent  of  guilt  as  a 
child's.  She  even  laid  a  friendly  hand  on  my  arm 
to  attract  my  attention  to  a  soaring  fish-eagle. 

I  brought  the  car  to  a  halt  under  the  oak,  rather 
jerkily.  I  looked  about.  The  downs  stretched  a 
mile  behind  us  and  twice  that  in  either  direction 
without  a  break.  In  front  was  the  sea,  the  surf 
beating  at  the  foot  of  a  forty-foot  cliff.  The 
drooping  boughs  of  the  oak  shielded  us  from  the 
sun,  and  broke  the  force  of  the  strong  sea  wind. 
No  living  soul,  other  than  ourselves,  was  visible  on 
land  or  sea. 

I  sprang  to  the  ground.  Ellen  lifted  her  veil 
and  pinned  it  clear  of  her  face. 

"Shall  I  get  out?" 

"  Not  yet." 

I  watched  her  fingers  playing  over  her  hair  with 
light  touches — now  and  then  the  red  bracelet 
showed  below  her  cuff — the  pathetic  face  of  the 
Nubian  looked  dumbly  out  at  me. 

"  The  grass  looks  very  inviting,"  she  suggested. 

"  If  you  don't  mind  keeping  your  seat  a  while, 
I  want  to  talk  to  you.  I've  a  good  deal  to  say — 
and  I  think  it'll  be  easier  to  say  it  if  I  can  look 
up  to  you." 


I  DEMAND  PAYMENT  257 

She  gave  me  her  curious  sidelong  glance.  I 
thrust  my  hands  in  the  pockets  of  my  short  coat — 
I  did  not  care  that  she  should  see  how  they  trembled 
— and  began  to  walk  up  and  down  the  length  of 
the  car.  Her  eyes  followed  me,  wistful  and  per- 
plexed. The  red  blood  crept  into  her  cheek  as  I 
began  to  speak. 

"  Are  you  getting  used  to  that  bracelet,  Nell?  " 

"  I  shall  never  get  used  to  it." 

"  You  can't  expect  to  get  rid  of  it  so  long  as 
you  let  things  go  on  as  you  do — so  long  as  you  per- 
suade people  to  burglarize  my  room." 

"  To  burglarize — I  don't  understand." 

She  gazed  at  me  with  a  blankness  that,  if 
assumed,  was  a  masterpiece  of  acting.  I  met  her 
eyes  an  instant,  then  continued  my  slow  pacing. 

"  You  don't  ?  Come,  Nell — didn't  you  persuade 
Ned's  wife  to  search  my  papers  night  before  last, 
when  she  thought  I  was  asleep?  " 

"  What !     Certainly  not !  " 

"  Didn't  you  get  Theresa  to  have  a  try  for  the 
same  thing  only  a  few  minutes  later?  " 

"  No."  Indignation  and  astonishment  vied  in 
her  tones.  "  I  never  heard  of  it.  She  didn't 
dare!" 

"  Oh,  yes,  she  did — I  caught  her  in  the  act.  And 
I  caught  Mary  Finney  in  a  wire  trap ! "  I  gave 
a  short  laugh.  "  You  never  heard  of  it?  I  know 
you  don't  lie,  Nell." 

"  I'm  glad  you  believe  that.  Did  you  think  for 
17 


258  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

a  moment  I  would  stoop  as  low  as  that — to  rob 
your  room?  I  haven't  lost  all  self-respect,  Craig." 

"  I  didn't  suppose  you  had." 

"  Mary  must  have  done  it  because  she's  Ned's 
wife.  They  told  me  they'd  told  you  about  their 
being  married,  but  they  didn't  tell  me  that.  And 
Theresa !  I'll  have  a  talk  with  her."  Her  indignant 
tones  died — she  sighed,  hopelessly.  "  She's  a  loyal 
soul — I  think  she  really  loves  me.  I  suppose  she 
only  did  what  she  thought  would  help  me." 

I  had  come  to  her  side  of  the  car  and  planted 
myself  square  in  front  of  her,  my  hands  gripping 
the  top  of  the  closed  door.  I  looked  up — she 
shrank  visibly  before  my  burning  eyes. 

"  Nell — the  letters  last  night — Norah's  and 
Rex's." 

She  was  aware  that  some  crisis  was  at  hand. 
"  Yes,"  she  said  almost  in  a  whisper. 

"  You  know  you  have  misjudged  me  all  these 
years,  don't  you  ?  " 

"  I  know  it  now — but,  Craig,  I  was  only  nine- 
teen." 

"  You  were  old  enough  to  pretend  to  love  me. 
You  ought  never  to  have  believed  it.  You  ought 
to  have  given  me  a  chance  to  explain."  I  struck 
the  top  of  the  door  with  my  clenched  fist  in  a  sud- 
den rage.  "  You  didn't  even  tell  me  your  reasons 
— I  never  dreamed,  until  yesterday !  " 

She  nodded  miserably. 

"  Nell,  you  were  abominably  cruel  to  me." 


Her  eyelashes  were  suddenly  wet.  Her  lips 
parted,  but  only  an  inaudible  whisper  came  from 
them.  I  went  on. 

"  You're  sorry  for  all  this  ?  " 

"  Desperately  sorry — Craig.  It's  a  poor  excuse, 
but  I  was  so  young.  I  didn't  really  understand — 
a  man's  love." 

"  You  owe  me  every  reparation  a  woman  can 
make  a  man — isn't  that  so  ?  " 

"  Ye-es." 

"  Remember,  I've  the  cheque  too — I'll  use  it  if 
you  make  me.  Whatever  I  ask  of  you,  you're 
bound  to  do — you  admit  that  ?  " 

My  eyes  frightened  her,  telling  her  more  than  my 
words.  She  buried  her  face  in  her  hands. 

For  a  moment  I  looked  up  at  her  exultant — 
exultant  of  the  tips  of  the  ears  and  the  neck  that 
burned  like  fire — exultant  of  the  tears  that  slipped 
between  her  close-pressed  fingers.  Then  something 
snapped  within  me.  I  extended  a  shaking  arm 
toward  her. 

"  Nell,"  I  cried,  "  I  want  you  to  marry  me ! " 

"  I  can't— believe " 

"  Yes.     Will  you  marry  me,  Nell?  " 

She  stared  at  me  a  long  time — so  long  that  I 
heard  the  roar  of  the  surf  at  the  cluT  foot,  and  the 
very  wind  sighing  through  the  oak-leaves  overhead. 
The  tears  slipped  unnoticed  down  her  burning 
cheeks. 

"  I  love  you,   Nell,"  I  said.      "  I've  loved  you 


260  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

every  minute  since  you  broke  our  engagement. 
That  was  cruel!  You've  haunted  me  all  these 
years,  wherever  I've  been — in  Sumatra,  and  every- 
where. I've  been  so  brutal  to  you  the  last  three 
days  because  I  love  you.  Do  you  think  I'd  have 
threatened  you  over  that  cheque  business  if  I  hadn't 
cared  for  you?  I  don't  say  I  came  home — to  your 
home — with  any  idea  of  winning  you  back  again. 
I  admit  I  only  meant  to  get  revenge.  But  I 
wouldn't  have  cared  about  revenge,  if  I  hadn't 
loved  you.  Can't  you  see  that?  You  yourself 
had  smashed  my  ideal  of  you — an  ideal  I'd  cherished 
above  everything  else  in  the  world.  I've  been  try- 
ing to  make  you  feel  some  of  the  pain  I've  felt  ever 
since  I  learned  you  weren't  what  I  had  thought 
you  were  for  so  long — the  loveliest  and  best  in  the 
world.  Dear,  when  I  saw  you  again  the  other  day, 
I  knew  I  loved  you  more  than  ever.  Will  you 
marry  me,  Nell?  " 

I  had  not  dared  to  look  at  her  as  I  spoke.  Now, 
as  I  did  so,  I  saw  that  her  face  had  lost  its  burning 
color,  and  her  eyes  were  veiled  by  their  long  lashes. 
Her  self-possession  had  returned. 

"  Are  you  aware  that  you  are  asking  a — thief 
to  become  your  wife?  " 

"  Oh,  don't !  Let  all  that  go.  What's  the  cheque 
to  me !  It's  nothing  compared  to  you." 

"  Craig,  you  are  doing  me  a  great  honor, 
but " 

Something  in  the  studied  monotony  of  her  tone 
alarmed  me.  "  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  I  began. 


I  DEMAND  PAYMENT  261 

She  made  an  imperious  gesture  for  silence.  "  A 
forger  could  never  be  your  wife." 

"  Why  not?  " 

"  A  wife  must  have  respect." 

"  I  don't  understand  what  you're  driving  at,"  I 
said  doggedly. 

She  gave  me  a  little  whimsical  smile.  "  Ah,  yes, 
you  do,  Craig.  Listen!  You  say  you  love  me?" 

"  Yes,  with  all  my  heart." 

"  You  think  you  do,  perhaps — now.  But  on 
your  honor — do  you  respect  me?  " 

"Oh  come!  Let  all  that  go!  What's  all  this 
got  to  do  with " 

Again  she  made  her  imperious  gesture.  "  Do 
you  respect  me  ?  " 

I  met  her  gaze  stubbornly — only  for  a  moment, 
then  my  eyes  fell  before  hers. 

"  Of  course  not,"  she  said  softly.  "  How  could 
you?  No,  Craig,  I'll  never  marry  you  without  re- 
spect." She  gave  a  little  laugh.  "Besides — I 
don't  love  you." 


XXIV 

THE  CHURCH  AT  TARNSDALE 

I  LEFT  her  sitting  in  the  car,  her  eyes  veiled  by 
their  inscrutable  lashes,  the  half-whimsical  smile  on 
her  lips.  The  shadow  of  the  oak  fell  behind  me 
like  a  curtain. 

I  walked  to  the  edge  of  the  cliff,  and  stared  over 
the  Sound.  Some  distance  out,  a  dazzling  point  of 
light  darted  from  a  swordfish  hunter's  harpoon.  A 
steamer  trailed  a  line  of  smoke  along  the  horizon. 
A  flock  of  kildees  fluttered  and  called  where  a  sandy 
point,  running  tongue-like  from,  a  little  coomb, 
afforded  a  hunting  ground.  At  my  feet  the  surf 
roared  sullenly  distinct. 

Although  Ellen's  refusal  had  given  me  a  heavy 
blow,  yet  I  had  had  some  premonition  of  it.  The 
Sutphen  pride  had  been  famous  for  eight  genera- 
tions— it  had  been  my  fear  that  her  high  temper, 
rebounding  from  its  submission  of  the  last  few 
days,  might  spur  her  to  desperation,  that  had  led 
me  to  lay  such  stress  on  the  obligations  she  owed 
me.  I  fancied  that  if  I  could  make  her  feel  the 
enormity  of  the  injustice  she  had  long  done  me,  she 
might  be  willing  to  recompense  me  by  herself! 

Her  spirit  completely  baffled  me.  Her  contempt 
of  herself  in  one  light  was  overwhelmed  by  her  de- 
sire for  respect  in  another.  "  Besides,"  she  had 

262 


THE  CHURCH  AT  TARNSDALE  263 

said,  "  I  don't  love  you."  There  was  the  explana- 
tion. My  hands  crumpled  the  lining  of  my  pockets. 

I  remembered  that,  after  all,  our  relative  posi- 
tions were  absolutely  unchanged.  She  still  wore 
the  slave's  bracelet  on  her  arm, — I  still  held  the 
cheque  slung  about  my  neck.  She  was  as  much  in 
my  power  as  ever,  and  I  could  exercise  that  power 
as  ruthlessly  as  I  liked.  Or  would  it  be  better  to  be 
a  good  loser? 

I  stared  gloomily  before  me.  I  felt  resentful  of 
the  monotonous  roar  of  the  surf — its  relentlessness, 
its  implacability  annoyed  me. 

Half-unconsciously  I  noticed  a  little  drama  of 
the  sands.  A  kildee,  at  the  mouth  of  the  coomb, 
had  lifted  a  shrimp  in  his  bill.  At  that  distance  the 
shrimp,  waving  helpless  antennas,  looked  startlingly 
like  a  tiny  human  form,  imploring  mercy  of  its 
destroyer.  As  I  watched,  the  capricious  kildee 
dropped  his  victim,  apparently  uninjured,  and  flew 
calling  derisively  above  the  foam.  At  the  same 
time,  well  out  on  the  Sound,  I  saw  a  harpoon  flash 
downward — a  predatory  swordfish  must  have  been 
struck  through  and  through. 

When  I  returned  to  the  car,  the  oak  threw  its 
heavy  shadow  over  it.  Coming  into  its  circle  from 
the  brilliant  sunshine  without,  I  saw  Ellen  with  diffi- 
culty— a  figure  mysterious  and  dim.  When  at  last 
our  eyes  met,  it  would  have  been  hard  to  tell  whose 
were  the  more  defiant.  She  fared  me  with  the  same 
tantalizing  half  smile. 


I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

I  spoke  abruptly.     "  Hold  out  your  hand." 

She  obeyed  me  silently.  "  No,  the  left,"  I  said. 
"  That's  it.  Don't  think  I  want  to  put  another 
bracelet  on  you."  My  fingers  fumbled  in  my 
pocket.  "  I  fancy  that  iron  has  weighed  a  good 
many  more  pounds  than  its  weight  sometimes, 
Nell." 

"  Sometimes,"  she  said. 

The  sleeve,  falling  back  from  the  outstretched 
wrist,  let  the  perplexed,  submissive  face  of  the 
Nubian  appear. 

"  Here's  the  key  to  the  thing."  I  produced  it 
as  I  spoke,  and  fitted  it  in  the  lock.  "  I'll  unlock 
it."  My  lightness  began  to  return  to  me  and  I 
was  able  to  smile  up  at  her  with  an  indifference 
equal  to  her  own.  "  I  can't  control  your  soul — 
you've  just  made  that  plain  to  me — so  I  won't  iron 
your  body." 

I  unlocked  the  trinket  and  let  key  and  all  fall  into 
her  lap.  She  stared  from  it  to  me. 

"  What  shall  I  do  with  it?  »» 

"  Do  with  it?  I  don't  care.  Throw  it  away  if 
you  like.  I  fancy  it  hasn't  any  pleasant  memories 
connected  with  it,  has  it?  You  might  give  it  to 
Dot  Archer  for  a  dog  collar.  You  don't  suppose 
I'll  let  you  put  it  on  me,  do  you  ?  " 

"  Turn  about  is  fair  play." 

Her  words,  mechanically  soothing,  suchi  as  one 
tosses  to  a  fretful  child,  warned  me  that  I  was  in 
danger  of  becoming  ridiculous.  I  drummed  on  the 


THE  CHURCH  AT  TARNSDALE  265 

tonneau  with  my  fingertips — as  gay  a  rataplan  as 
I  could  muster. 

"  Well,  Nell,"  I  said,  "  there's  nothing  but  a  sea 
in  front  of  us — we  can't  go  any  farther  in  this 
direction." 

She  took  my  meaning.  "  Then  there's  nothing 
to  do  but  go  back.  It's  hard  to  travel  the  back- 
road,  though,  Craig." 

"  Yes.  It'll  be  all  the  harder  on  you — after  a 
glimpse — of  the  open." 

She  took  off  her  hat  and  veil  and  dropped  them 
on  the  bracelet  in  her  lap.  "  I  think  the  wind  will 
be  soothing."  A  little  sigh  escaped  her.  "  I'm 
all  ready." 

I  cranked  the  car,  tucked  in  the  rugs  about  her, 
and  jumped  into  my  seat.  Yet  once  there  I  felt 
in  no  hurry  to  move.  To  do  so  was  to  go  back  to 
the  period  of  tyranny  and  submission  we  had 
escaped  for  a  while.  I  did  not  yearn  for  my 
former  masterful  position.  For  a  moment,  I  was 
inclined  to  temporize. 

I  gazed  straight  before  me.  "  Nell,  if  we  go 
back,  I  sha'n't  have  any  mercy  on  you." 

"  Do  you  intend  to  abuse  us  indefinitely?  " 

"  I  don't  see  why  I  shouldn't — if  there  isn't  any 
other  way." 

I  looked  at  her  boldly.  Her  eyes  fell  before 
mine  and  her  lip  trembled. 

"  You're  sure  you  can't  agree  to  the  other  way, 
Nell?" 


266  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

"I'm  sure." 

"  On  your  own  head  be  it,  then." 

With  a  half-articulate  curse  at  my  folly,  I 
started  the  car.  I  had  put  on  at  least  three  quar- 
ters power,  and  absorbed  in  my  chagrin,  had  headed 
out  toward  the  cliff. 

The  car  was  unpleasantly  near  the  brink  when  I 
brought  it  about  with  a  swoop,  and  held  a  course 
parallel  to  the  sea.  The  hazard  we  had  escaped 
acted  on  me  like  a  heady  wine — I  was  suddenly  able 
to  take  a  cheerful  view  of  life. 

"  Another  two  seconds  and  our  troubles  might 
have  been  over,"  I  laughed,  slowing  down  to  half- 
speed. 

"  A  dreadful  way  to  die." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know.  I  never  could  agree  with  the 
prayer-book :  *  From  battle,  murder,  and  sudden 
death,  good  Lord!  deliver  us.'  A  sudden  death  is 
the  kind  I  pray  for." 

"  Yes — but  to  die  without  explanations  ? 
Wouldn't  that  be  horrible?" 

"  You  evidently  think  so.  But  it  would  be  a 
good  deal  more  horrible  to  linger  on,  a  burden 
to  one's  friends  and  a  horror  to  one's  self.  I  can't 
imagine  anything  more  ghastly.  In  fact,  I'm  all 
for  euthanasia." 

"  But  not  to  explain  !  " 

"Explain?  Explain  what?"  I  glanced  at  her 
sharply.  "  Are  you  speaking  generally,  or  do  you 
mean  to  apply  it  to  you  and  me?  " 


THE  CHURCH  AT  TARNSDALE  267 

She  lifted  roe  a  pair  of  eyes  so  dewy,  so  mys- 
teriously tender,  that  I  fairly  caught  my  breath. 

"  There  is  something  in  particular,"  I  began,  but 
got  no  further. 

My  eyes  had  been  on  her  rather  than  on  our 
course.  Now  I  felt  the  car  take  a  sudden  dip — as 
a  duck  squatters  for  a  flight.  I  glanced  up. 

A  break  in  the  downs,  half  slope,  half  crevasse, 
lay  right  across  our  path.  The  coomb,  at  whose 
mouth  I  had  seen  the  kildees  playing,  ran  inland 
far  enough  to  have  set  a  deadly  trap  for  us. 

We  had  been  moving  at  a  fair  rate  of  speed — 
already  we  were  swooping  down  a  slope  that  ended 
in  a  sheer  thirty-foot  drop. 

I  threw  off  the  power,  stamped  down  the  foot- 
brake  and,  knowing  this  would  not  check  our  im- 
petus in  time,  half  turned  in  my  seat  and  with  both 
hands  dragged  at  the  emergency-brake.  It  refused 
to  work! 

I  gave  a  cry — half  curse  and  half  groan — and 
threw  one  arm  about  Ellen — my  other  hand 
clutched  despairingly  at  the  accursed  brake-handle. 
But  I  knew  we  would  be  in  mid-air  in  a  breath.  I 
leaned  far  forward  in  a  frantic  effort  to  break  her 
fall  with  my  own  body. 

Then  with  a  heavy  jolt,  the  car  stopped  at  the 
very  brink  of  the  cliff.  An  arc  of  the  wheels  was 
actually  suspended  over  the  steep.  The  brake  had 
acted  at  the  last  possible  fraction  of  time,  and  the 
tragedy  had  become  a  comedy. 


268  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

We  stared  at  each  other,  both  a  little  pale.  A 
slow  shiver  ran  through  her  from  head  to  foot. 

"  I  think  you'd  better  get  out,"  I  said  gently. 
"  Well,  well — it  was  nearly  too  late  for  explanations 
that  time." 

She  slipped  from  her  seat  to  the  ground.  There 
she  stood  swaying.  She  tried  to  steady  herself 
by  a  hand  against  the  side  of  the  car  but,  even  as 
I  sprang  down  to  help  her,  she  sank  on  the  running- 
board. 

I  bent  anxiously  over  her.     "  Are  you  faint?  " 

"No,  no.     Oh,  Craig!" 

To  my  amazement,  she  put  her  arms  against  the 
curve  of  the  mud-dasher,  buried  her  face  in  their 
hollow,  and  broke  into  pitiful  weeping. 

"  Nell !  Nell,  did  it  frighten  you  so  ?  I  ought 
to  have  been  more  careful." 

"  No — no.  It  isn't  that.  I'm  not  frightened — 
not  for  myself." 

In  her  position  on  the  running-board  she  was 
very  close  to  me.  In  the  broad  collar  and  brown 
tie,  with  her  tear-wet  eyes  and  shining  hair,  she 
looked  like  a  child  lost  on  the  moor.  The  brown 
hat  and  veil  had  slipped  from  her  lap  when  she  had 
sprung  out  and  now  lay  where  they  had  fallen. 
The  red  bracelet,  the  key  still  in  the  lock,  twinkled 
in  the  grass  nearby. 

I  sat  down  beside  her  and  touched  her  hair 
softly.  "What  is  it,  Nell?  Tell  me." 

"  If — if  we  had  gone  over — without  a  chance  to 
explain ! " 


THE  CHURCH  AT  TARNSDALE     269 

I  slipped  my  arm  about  her  shoulders.  "  Look 
at  me,  Nell." 

She  started,  half  arose,  then  sank  to  her  knees 
in  front  of  me,  her  eyes  very  wide.  I  put  both 
hands  on  her  shoulders  and  looked  at  her  sternly. 

"  Nell — listen  to  me !  I  understand  one  thing 
at  last.  I  know  you  never  forged  that  cheque." 

She  turned  very  white.  The  lashes  hid  her  eyes, 
and  her  voice  when  she  spoke  was  barely  audible. 

"  What  makes  you  say  that?  How  do — you 
know?  " 

"  Because  I  do.  When  a  man  loves  a  girl — when 
he  loves  her  truly — he  knows  her.  I  know  you, 
Nell.  I  don't  know  the  how  or  the  why  of  things, 
but  I  know  you  didn't  touch  that  cheque.  Now,  I 
think  of  it,  you've  never  really  said  you  did.  I 
dare  you  to  say  so." 

Her  face  was  buried  in  her  hands — the  tears 
'stole  between  her  fingers.  I  undid  a  button  of  my 
coat  and  drew  out  the  packet. 

"  There  it  is.  Let  it  all  go.  Tear  the  vile  thJng 
up." 

She  made  no  move  to  do  so.  On  the  contrary, 
she  gave  me  her  quaint  smile  and  to  my  surprise 
proceeded  to  open  it.  She  paused  to  dash  away 
her  tears. 

"  If — if  I  hadn't  lost  my  handkerchief,  I — I 
wouldn't  look  so  silly." 

"  Tear  up  the — the  confounded  mischief- 
maker,"  I  repeated.  "  I  never  want  to  see  it 
again." 


270  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

Still  she  did  not  obey,  but  slowly  unfolded  the 
buff-colored  slip  of  paper. 

"  So  this  is  it?  "  She  stared  at  it  as  if  she  had 
never  seen  it  before.  "  '  First  National  Bank  of 
New  York, '  "  she  read.  "  «  May  12,  1910.'  " 

"Oh,  don't,"  I  interrupted.  "Let  it  all  go, 
Nell.  What's  the  use!" 

She  read  on  serenely  in  an  even  tone.  " '  Pay 
to  the  order  of  Ellen  Sutphen  twenty-five  thousand 
dollars.  Craig  Schuyler.' '  She  reversed  the 
cheque,  and  went  on.  "  Endorsed :  '  Ellen  Sut- 
phen.' '  She  drew  a  long  breath  and  looked  at  me. 
"  You  don't  believe  I  wrote  it  ?  " 

"  No,  I  don't,"  I  declared  doggedly.  "  I  don't 
believe  a  word  of  it." 

Suddenly  her  face  was  very  close  to  mine,  full 
of  the  laughing,  wistful  light  I  had  seen  a  few 
moments  before. 

"  Craig  Schuyler,"  she  said  a  little  brokenly, 
"  do  you  know,  sir,  you're  a  very — noble — person? 
Don't  interrupt  me — please!  You  believe  in  me 
now  and — and  I'm  going  to  tell  you — everything. 
I've  been  wicked  not  to  tell  you  long  ago,  but  you 
were  so  violent — you  fell  on  mother  and  me  like 
a  whirlwind.  You  didn't  give  us  a  chance.  Craig, 
I  never  saw  that  thing  before  and  I  didn't  write  it 
— neither  did  mother.  No,  no — don't  interrupt !  " 

She  snatched  up  the  packet  and  drew  out  another 
paper  I  had  carried  in  it — Rex's  letter  to  Norah. 

"  Craag,  compare  the  last  line  here — the  one  I 


THE  CHURCH  AT  TARNSDALE  £71 

wrote,  and  my  name — with  the  writing  on  the 
cheque.  Yes — please  do.  Do  you  think  they  look 
alike?" 

I  gave  a  triumphant  shout.  "  No,  no,  they 
aren't  the  same !  If  I'd  seen  your  handwriting  any 
time  these  four  years,  I  would  have  known  that  sig- 
nature wasn't  yours.  Hallelujah!"  I  scrutinized 
letter  and  endorsement.  "  Somebody  was  imitat- 
ing your  hand  pretty  closely,  Nell." 

She  nodded.  The  light  died  out  of  her  eyes  and 
she  blushed  painfully.  "  Craig,  mother  and  I 
didn't  know  anything  about  the  cheque  until  it  was 
too  late— but— Ned  did." 

"  O-o-h ! "  I  said  in  long-drawn  enlightenment. 
"  It  was  Ned !  " 

"  Yes.  The  wretched  boy  took  advantage  of 
your  being  in  Sumatra.  It  was  easy  enough  for 
him  to  see  your  signature — it's  on  the  fly-leaves  of 
several  books  in  the  library.  He  did  it.  He 
thought,  of  course,  you  wouldn't  know  about  it  for 
months,  away  off  there  in  the  East.  And  of  course 
he  meant  to  make  it  up  somehow,  before  you  got 
back.  Then  he  saw  by  the  papers  that  you  were  in 
Paris  on  the  way  home." 

"  The  cashier  of  the  First  National  sent  me  a 
cablegram  there — in  Paris — about  the  cheque,"  I 
said.  "  I  cabled  him  it  was  all  right,  although,  of 
course,  I  knew  something  was  all  wrong." 

"  When  Ned  saw  you  were  so  near  home,  he  came 
and  confessed  to  mother  and  me.  Then  he  went 


272  I  FASTEN  A  BRACELET 

West — he  went  into  hiding  out  there.  He  would 
have  been  there  yet — if  I  hadn't  written  him — about 
Mary." 

I  nodded. 

"  Ned  ran  away,  but  we  couldn't  undo  the  harm 
he'd  done.  You  see,  he'd  had  the  money  placed  to 
my  account — he  thought  he'd  use  it  to  make  up 
the  money  of  mine  he'd  lost,  you  know.  After 
we'd  found  out — after  Ned  had  gone — we  didn't 
dare  put  the  money  back  to  your  credit — it  would 
have  looked  so  queer.  Besides,  we  didn't  know  how 
to  go  about  it,  and  we  were  afraid  to  ask  any  one — 
horribly  afraid  to  move.  Of  course — you  know — 
we've  never  touched  a  cent  of  it." 

"  You  poor  child !  " 

"  That's  all,  I  think.  Except  that  when  you 
appeared,  mother  was  determined  to  shield  Ned — 
and  I— I " 

"  Well,  why  did  you  pretend  to  be  guilty  ?  "  I 
demanded.  "  Surely  Ned  wasn't  worth  that." 

"  Because — because  you  hurt  me  so  by  believing 
for  a  minute " 

"  But  you  hurt  me  by  believing  that  I  was  a 
Carlos  Beauchamp." 

She  gave  a  little  sob.  "  Oh,  Craig !  when  you 
asked  me — a  little  while  ago — when  you  asked  me 
to  marry  you,  you  admitted  you  couldn't  respect 
me,  and  so — so  I  said — I  didn't  love  you." 

I  turned  my  face  against  the  side  of  the  car. 
"  Nell,"  I  said  huskily.  "  You're  right — how  can 


THE  CHURCH  AT  TARNSDALE     273 

you  love  me !  I'm  a  beast !  I'm  not  fit  to  associate 
with  anybody  but  savages — I'll  go  back  where  I  be- 
long. Dear  heart,  can  you  ever  forgive  me  for 
making  you  wear  that?  "  I  pointed  to  the  bracelet 
in  the  grass  at  her  knee. 

She  gave  me  a  look,  marvellously  dewy  and  be- 
wildering. With  a  quick  motion  she  picked  up  the 
bracelet  and  locked  it  on  her  wrist.  She  tossed  the 
key  into  a  wave  that  broke  just  below  us.  Her 
eyes  were  deep  and  her  lips  were  very  tremulous. 

"  If  you  wish — we'll  never  unlock  it,"  she  whis- 
pered. 

"  Nell !  "  I  cried.     "  Do  you  mean  it?  " 

I  put  both  hands  on  her  shoulders  and  drew  her 
to  me.  Our  lips  met  with  a  passion  that  shook  us 
through  and  through. 

After  a  little  she  held  me  from  her.  "  Oh,  how 
cruel  I've  been  to  you,  Craig — all  these  years." 

"  You're  making  up  for  it  now.  Poor  Aleck !  I 
can  almost  say,  poor  Beauchamp !  " 

She  blushed  adorably.  "  Poor  Norah !  "  she 
whispered,  "  even  if  she  does  become  a  countess." 

"  The  church  at  Tarnsdale  would  do,"  I  said 
irrelevantly. 

"Oh,  Craig!" 

The  surf  roared  at  the  mouth  of  the  coomb. 
The  kildees  called  above  it.  The  shrimps  swam  in 
the  little  pools.  And  Nell  and  I  rested  contentedly 
against  the  car,  the  grass  whispering  about  us. 


A  NEW  SPARKLING   ROMANCE 

The  Woman  in  Question 

By  JOHN  REED  SCOTT 

Autbvr  of"Tbe  Colonel  of  the  Red  Huzzart,"  "The  Princest  Dekr*'1 
and  "Beatrix  of  Clare" 

THREE  FULL-PAGE  ILLUSTRATIONS  IN  COLOR 
BY  CLARENCE  F.  UNDERWOOD 

ismo.     Decorated  cloth,  $1.50 


"  The  Woman  in  Question"  is  a  romance,  but  not  of 
Valeria  nor  mediaeval  England.  Mr.  Scott  has  remained 
home  in  America,  and  the  scenes  are  laid  in  the  Eastern 
United  States.  The  story  is  distinctly  modern  in  tone  and 
theme,  and  centers  in  and  around  Fairlawn  Hall,  an  old 
mansion  with  a  marvellous  garden,  lying  on  the  outskirts  of 
Egerton,  where  the  new  master  has  come  with  a  party  of 
friends — to  find  mystery,  misfortune,  and  love  awaiting  him. 

Mr.  Scott  shows  steady  improvement  in  each  succeeding 
novel,  and  he  has  planned  this  latest  story  well,  filling  it 
with  many  surprises  and  dramatic  moments. 

"  The  story  has  dash  and  verve." 

— New  York  Times  Saturday  Review  of  Books. 

"There  are  few  heroines  in  latter-day  American  fiction  comparable 
with  charming  Mildred  Gascoyne." — Philadelphia  North  American. 

"  The  dialogue  is  bright  and  sparkling,  the  characters  interesting,  and 
the  plot  sufficiently  exciting.  The  woman  in  question,  young,  beautiful, 
and  spirited,  is  involved  in  mystery,  the  unfolding  of  which  introduces 
•ome  thrilling  episodes." — Boston  Evening  Transcript. 


J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  CO.  KSiSSffi 


ROBERT  HICHENS*  GREATEST  NOVEL 


Again  Robert  Hichens  has  taken  his  reader  to  Northern 
Africa.  This  time  to  the  Nile  Valley  and  its  sands,  its 
rocky  wilderness  and  the  ruins  of  millenniums.  Here  his 
rich  imagination  has  developed  one  of  those  Anglo-Oriental 
romances  in  the  weaving  of  which  he  has  proved  himself 
a  past-master.  Again  the  reader  may  enjoy  the  vivid 
coloring  of  his  pen  pictures  of  the  desert.  His  descriptive 
powers  have  lost  none  of  their  force. 

As  in  "The  Garden  of  Allah,"  we  have  in  Mr. 
Hichens'  new  novel  the  mystery  of  the  Orient,  idealism, 
romance,  the  great  expanse  of  the  desert.  Northern  Africa 
is  the  scene  of  "  Bella  Donna" — the  valley  of  the  Nile,  its 
rocks  and  ruins  and  sandy  wastes,  form  its  background. 
The  story  deals  with  the  conflict  of  an  earthly  woman  and 
a  man  of  ideals — a  woman  who  loves  the  material  pleasures 
of  the  earth  and  knows  nothing  about  "  conscience  "  and 
"soul,"  while  the  man,  her  direct  opposite,  looks  into 
material  matters  for  the  spiritual  and  ideal. 

"It  is  Egypt  as  'Kim'  is  India." — New  York  Times. 

"  A  remarkable  piece  of  work,  as  noteworthy  in  its  way 

as  '  The  Garden  of  Allah '  or  « The  Call  of  the  Blood.'  " 

— San  Francisco  Chronicle. 

"  Such  a  novel — substantial,  powerful,  overwhelming 
in  its  inevitable  climax — as  comes  to  the  public  only  once 
or  so  in  a  decade." — St.  Louis  Globe- Democrat. 

"  This  is  one  of  the  best  novels  we  have  ever  read,  and 
quite  the  best  that  Mr.  Robert  Hichens  has  written.  It 
combines  the  two  elements  of  which  every  good  novel 
ought  to  be  composed,  subtle  analysis  of  character  and  an 
exciting  plot" — Saturday  Review,  London. 

I2mo.      Decorated  cloth,  $1.50. 

J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS  PHILADELPHIA 


A  SPIRITED  TALE  OF  OLD  ANNAPOLIS 

THE    IMPOSTOR 

By  JOHN  REED  SCOTT 

jtuthor  cf  "  Tbi  Colonel  tf  the  Red  Huxxari"  "  Tbt  (Toman  in  Qutstitn," 
"  The  Prineesi  Dtbra"  *te. 

THREE  FULL-PAGE  ILLUSTRATIONS  IN  COLOR 
By  CLARENCE  F.   UNDERWOOD 

1 2 mo.      Decorated  Cloth,  $1.50. 


Mr.  Scott  has  already  written  fiction,  romantic  and  realis- 
tic, medieval  and  modern,  native  and  alien,  and  in  his  latest 
book,  The  Impostor,  cleverly  blends  all  these  elements.  It 
is  a  story  of  Annapolis  in  the  days  of  1766,  of  a  young  English 
lord  who  comes  there  under  an  assumed  name,  and  of  a  dash- 
ing pirate  who  sails  into  society  incognito.  Love  and  fighting 
and  keen  repartee  diversify  the  book  and  show  Mr.  Scott's 
cleverness. 

"  A  novel  of  gay  spirit  and  sprightly  movement." 

— New  Orleans  Picayune. 

"  Enlivened  by  sprightly  dialogue  and  with  an  occasional  scene 
in  which  a  gentleman  pirate  plays  a  leading  r61e,  the  romance 
ranks  with  its  author's  best  works." — Chicago  Daily  News. 

"  A  well-told  tale,  graceful  in  its  style,  pleasing  in  its  texture, 
and  stirring  in  its  episodes.  It  shows,  in  every  way,  a  broadening 
of  the  powers  of  the  author,  whose  previous  novels  were  suffi- 
ciently scintillant  and  dashing  for  every  reader  of  whatever  taste." 

— Philadelphia  Record. 

"  A  rattling  good  story  describes  the  story  well,  but  it  is  also  a 
story  told  with  infinite  delicacy  and  grace.  The  airy  compliments 
between  man  and  maid  in  those  leisurely  days,  the  coquetry  of 
the  women  fostered  by  their  scarcity  in  the  colony,  the  rivalries 
of  the  men  for  the  favor  of  the  few  eligible  ladies  of  quality  who 
graced  the  large  estates  surrounding  the  capitals,  the  atmosphere 
of  the  place,  and  the  stately  dignity  of  members  of  the  Colonial 
Council  are  all  skilfully  depicted.  The  writer  has  caught  also 
the  warm  personal  interest  and  affection  existing  between  families 
and  men  dependent  wholly  upon  one  another  for  official  and 
social  companionship.  Altogether,  Mr.  Scott  has  written  a  spirited 
and  vivid  book.  The  illustrations  are  also  delightful." 

— Baltimore  Sun. 


J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  CO. 


AN  ENGROSSING  MTSTERT-DETECTI^E  TALE 

The  Scales  of  Justice 

By  GEORGE  L.  KNAPP 

Three  illustrations  in  color  by  tht  Kinneyi.      I2mo.      Cloth, 


JUDGE   BEN   B.  LINDSEY 
of  Denver,  writes 

"  George  L.  Knapp's  book,  'The  Scales  of  Justice,'  is  one 
of  the  very  best  contributions  thus  far  made  to  that  class  of 
literature  dealing  with  the  abuses  of  our  police  departments. 
Besides  being  a  story  of  intense  mystery,  cleverly  and  won- 
derfully well  written,  it  is  a  book  with  a  purpose,  which  gives 
it  a  double  value  and  an  added  interest.  It  possesses  all  the 
fascination  and  interest  of  our  best  detective  stories,  which 
should  attract  the  average  reader  and,  at  the  same  time,  be- 
cause of  its  wonderful  portrayal  of  that  political  combination 
between  big  business  and  vice  in  the  cities  of  this  country, 
makes  it  equally  appealing  to  every  good  citizen  interested  in 
our  modern  political  and  economic  problems.  It  ought  to 
be  one  of  the  best  sellers." 

"A  tale  that  is  startling  enough  to  make  one  forget  that  startling 
deeds  have  been  done  and  written  of  before."  —  Chicago  Tribune. 

"  Virile  and  glowing.  It  will  satisfy  the  desire  of  the  reader  for 
something  to  keep  him  awake."  —  Seattle  Post-  Intelligencer. 

"A  detective  mystery  story  which  really  sustains  its  nty»tery  to 
the  finish  and  provides  a  novel  denouement." 

—  Pittsburg  Gazette-  Times. 

"  This  is  a  strong,  well-written,  interest-gripping  romance,  full 
of  action  ;  the  best  mystery  story  of  the  year  and  unique  in  that 
its  claim  to  public  approval  as  an  absorbing  story  of  present-day 
life  is  equalled  by  its  appeal  to  the  humanitarian  sentiments  and 
finer  instincts  of  the  reader,  for  it  is  the  most  impressive  expos6 
of  the  essential  infamy  of  the  modern  police  method  known  as 
1  the  third  degree  '  that  has  been  written." 

—  Twentieth  Century  Magazine,  Boston. 

"  Not  until  the  very  last  chapter  does  the  reader  even  guess  the 
identity  of  the  murderer,  and  then  the  surprise  is  great  and  the 
story  takes  an  entirely  novel  and  unexpected  turn.  It  would  be 
unfair  to  author,  publisher,  and  reader  to  print  this  remarkable 
denouement,  but  it  is  so  strong  and  logical  as  well  as  unexpected 
that  it  is  worth  reading  the  book  to  enjoy  the  thrill  that  it  supplies 
at  the  end."—  New  York  Herald. 


J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  CO. 


"-EASILY    THE   BOOK    OF   THE   DAT" 

San  Francuu  Argonaut 

Routledge  Rides  Alone 

By  WILL  LEVINGTON  COMFORT 

COLORED  FRONTISPIECE  BY  MARTIN  JUSTICE 
12MO.    CLOTH,  WITH  INLAY  IN  COLORS,  $1.50 

HERE  is  a   talc   indeed — big   and   forceful,  palpitating  with 
interest,    and   written  with   the  sureness  of  touch  and  the 
breadth  of  a  man  who  is  master  of  his  art.     Mr.  Comfort 
has  drawn  upon  two  practically  new  story-places  hi  the  world  of 
fiction  to  furnish  the  scenes  for  his  narrative — India  and  Manchuria 
at  the  time  of  the  Russo-Japanese  War.      While  the  novel  is  dis- 
tinguished by  its  clear  and  vigorous  war  scenes,  the  fine  and  sweet 
romance  of  the  love  of  the  hero,  Routledge — a  brave,  strange, 
and  talented  American — for  the  "most  beautiful  woman  in  Lon- 
don "  rivals  these  in  interest. 

The  story  opens  hi  London,  sweeps  up  and  down  Asia,  and 
reaches  its  most  rousing  pitch  on  the  ghastly  field  of  Liaoyang,  in 
Manchuria.  The  one-hundred-mile  race  from  the  field  to  a  free 
cable  outside  the  war  zone,  between  Routledge  and  an  English 
war  correspondent,  is  as  exciting  and  enthralling  as  anything  that 
has  appeared  hi  fiction  in  recent  years. 

"A  big,  vital,  forceful  story  that  towers  giant-high — a  romance  to  hire  the 
hours  away  in  tense  interest — a  book  with  a  message  for  all  mankind." 

—Detroit  Fret  Prett. 

"  Three  such  magnificent  figures  as  Routledge,  Noreen,  and  Rawder  nerer 
before  have  appeared  together  in  fiction.  Take  it  all  in  all,  '  Routledge  Rides 
Alone '  is  a  great  novel,  full  of  sublime  conception ,  one  of  the  few  novels  that 
are  as  ladders  from  heaven  to  earth. ' ' — San  Francisco  Argonaut. 

"The  story  unfolds  a  vast  and  vivid  panorama  of  life.  The  first  chapters 
remind  one  strongly  of  the  descriptive  Kipling  we  once  knew.  We  commend  the 
book  for  its  sustained  interest.  We  recommend  it  for  ha  descriptive  power." 

— Boston  Evening  Transcript. 

«« Here  is  one  of  the  strongest  novels  of  the  year ;  a  happy  blending  of 
romance  and  realism,  vivid,  imaginative,  dramatic,  and,  above  all,  a  well  told  story 
with  a  purpose.  It  is  a  red-blooded  story  of  war  and  love,  with  a  touch  of  th« 
mysticism  of  India,  some  world  politics,  love  of  country,  and  hate  of  oppression— 
a  tale  of  clean  and  expert  workmanship,  powerful  and  personal." 

— Pittsburg  Dispatch. 

J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS  PHILADELPHIA 


A  FASCINATING  DRAMATIC  NOVEL  OF  ACTION- 

The  Winning  Chance 


By  ELIZABETH   DEJEANS 
Colored  Frontispiece.      I2mo.      Cloth, 


<D 


'E  HAVE  no  hesitancy  in  pronouncing  this 
powerful  story  one  of  the  most  impressive 
studies  of  our  highly  nervous  American  life 
that  has  been  published  in  a  long  while.  It  is  written 
with  enormous  vitality  and  emotional  energy.  The 
grip  it  takes  on  one  intensifies  as  the  story  proceeds. 

A  young  Southern  girl  becomes  stenographer  to  a 
hard,  wilful  financier,  and  the  story  of  her  life  of  sacri- 
fice and  sorrow  is  human  and  appealing.  Leo  Varek, 
the  financier,  is  a  most  masterful  and  dramatic  character. 
His  strength  of  will  and  intellectual  power  are  irresistible. 
The  way  he  handles  his  big  problems  and  pays  his 
"heavy  toll"  is  unforgettable. 


CRITICAL   OPINIONS 

"  A  book  which  will  arouse  as  much  discussion  as  Eugene  Walter's 
play,  "The  Easiest  Way."— St.  Louis  Times. 

"  The  theme  of  the  book  involves  one  of  the  deepest  and  darkest 
tragedies  of  civilization — a  tragedy  that  should  arouse  a  nation  to  action." 

— Edwin  Markham. 

"  The  story  is  an  absorbing  one.  The  conflict  between  the  self-made 
man,  with  his  insurgent  vitality  and  egotism,  and  the  appealing  figure  of 
the  girl  is  convincingly  set  forth." — N.  Y.  Times  Saturday  Review. 

"A  story  of  compelling  interest,  but  handled  to  such  purpose  that 
while  the  hearts  of  all  who  read  it  will  be  moved  to  sympathy,  the  book 
carries  an  uplift." — San  Francisco  Chronicle. 

"  Elizabeth  Dejeans  carries  her  readers  irresistibly  into  the  hearts  and 
lives  of  her  story's  people.  There  is  a  depth  of  human  interest  in  'The 
Winning  Chance '  that  causes  one  to  turn  back  to  certain  chapters  after  the 
book  has  been  more  than  once  carefully  read." 

— Boston  Btidget  and  Beacon. 

J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY 


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